#when your doctor only ever sees his patients as Guinea pigs to experiment on

[dimorphodon-x]

By all accounts, Starhawk should’ve been dead. If not by the shot he sustained to his spark, then by his masters’ blades for being such a disgrace.

Yet here he was, spark still spinning and fuel pump pumping. But he wasn’t back on his feet yet.

The young jet grimaced, his jaw clenching as a wave of pain washed over him. He cautiously squinted one eye open and stared up at the bright overhead light. He could hear medical instruments beeping, see the glow of their screens at his peripheral. Wires and cords seemed to be connected to various parts of his frame, though he was unable to lift his head to see for certain.

“Stay still,” the gruff voice of his medic growled at him. The green and beige mech soon came into view. His front and arms were coated in blue energon, both old and fresh, all of it possibly Hawk’s, “I’ve put enough work into keeping you alive, I don’t need you damaging anything.”

Starhawk opened his mouth to speak, but words weren’t coming to him. Slingarm shushed him again.

“No talking either. You won’t be up long, I promise,” it was then that Hawk realized that his own chassis was still wide open as the doctor shoved his hands back into his exposed gears. His mouth opened in a silent scream and he dug his claws into the medical berth.

“So dramatic,” Slingarm grunted as something snapped in his hands. The pain almost made the flier’s eyes water, “just a minute….”

Hawk’s fangs made an audible clack as he snapped his jaws shut. At least Slingarm kept his promise, as he passed out a minute later.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when his systems onlined again, starting with his vision. Now his berth had been tilted so that he was upright. There was no blinding light in his face and he wasn’t hooked up to whatever medical equipment, and there were no green greasy fingers pulling at his innards.

He spotted Slingarm’s cat resting on his desk and shot the old mecha-feline a glare, “your master is honestly the worst medic.”

Gigus just tucked his paws under his chest and relaxed his green eyes. Stupid vermin…

Deciding he’d had enough standing around (and honestly wanting nothing more to do with the medic), Starhawk stepped forward, though his legs felt weak. The rest of his systems burst to life and he collapsed onto his knees. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He gasped and arched his back, his crest almost touching the floor. It was like there was something inside of him, twisting, writhing, struggling to drill its way out of his frame. The horrid sensation made him want to purge his tanks.

“So dramatic…” Slingarm tsked. Had he always been standing there? He hadn’t noticed him in the room at all.

“What-did you-hrrk! Do to me?!” Starhawk dry heaved again, nothing coming up despite how hard his tanks tried to empty themselves. It was as if they were already empty.

“I just saved your life!” He held his hands up innocently, but his wicked smile widened, “and I’ve taken the liberty of making a few… improvements…”

The twisting sensation finally relieved itself as Hawk’s t-cog whirled unnaturally and his frame jerked. He gagged, feeling extensions of himself bursting from his back and sides, writhing around him like worms. His armor felt both so hollow and too tight.

He wanted to scream. Scraping at the floor, he pictured tearing into Slingarm’s chest, ripping his wires out and splitting his spark chamber open. Drool dripped from his fangs at the image in his struggling mind.

It was then that he realized just how hungry he was…

[love-fireflysong]

mayhaps... 40 in ur outlast/until dawn au :] interpret that however u will (mainly askin this cause i wanna read More about it)

(Wait. You, you want to read more about my shitty ass au that’s just like 3 different au’s in a trenchcoat?????? Yeah, yeah, um, okay. I think I can do that! Maybe. Possibly.)

You can pick and choose your own kiss prompt to send in here!

Five months, three weeks, and six days. Five months. Three weeks. And six days. The three of them had last been in the same room together five months, three weeks, and six days ago. One hundred and seventy-six total days, and they had learned to savour every second-long glance they managed in narrow hallways and spotted across courtyards through windows ever since.

Four months, one week, and two days ago marked the day that Josh had heard Ashley’s voice for the first time since they had been forcefully separated. It had been weak—an echo so faint that he was convinced at first that he had just imagined it—but after going nearly forty-eight days unable to talk when they used to never go more then two, the two of them had latched onto it all the same.

Thirteen days later, Chris’s confused and hopeful voice finally joined the two of theirs. Ashley had been so overcome with their combined relief and the overwhelming realization that they could finally at least talk to each other again, that her sobbing had almost gotten them caught right away. Three months, three weeks, and three days ago they were allowed to be together at least like this.

Two months since the day Josh had discovered Chris’s face looking back at him in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, discovering that they could see what the others did as well. The amount of time they all spent staring into mirrors with that revelation probably wasn’t the first hint that the Morphogenic Engine had finally birthed something in them, but it was likely the most damning. They had hoped that the doctors would just assume this to be nothing more then a case of exceptional narcissism, but luck was not on their side (not that it had ever been in this place). It didn’t matter. They were so desperate to even just look at each others faces—tired, worn down, and abused as they all were—that they would accept any consequences that would come from this.

And consequences there were. 

One month and three days ago, after the tests and ‘therapy’ sessions had only become longer and more frequent, the next pathological birthing revealed itself. It seemed that not only were they of one mind and eyes, but now their bodies were connected as well. A wound delivered to one of them would be felt just as terribly by the others with no mark to mar their skin.

The last month had been spent with even more work put into making sure they were kept apart, housing each of them in different areas of the asylum so they would never be allowed catch a glimpse of the others again. Believing that this separation would only exacerbate the trauma of not being allowed to contact each other except through the use of their new ‘gifts’. Well, it certainly exacerbated the discovery that this new connection of theirs meant that they were now connected in more ways then one. The further the distances between them, the less of themselves they became. 

Josh felt unable to speak, his tongue fat and useless in a mouth full of cotton. Chris swearing that he had been submerged and forced to move in a room of syrup, and his hands too shaky to hold onto anything larger then a penny. And Ashley’s poor brain filled with fog and running on novocaine all at once, unable to string words or thoughts together that she had loved oh so much.

Up until two days ago, there had been discussions had between doctors and scientists that more tests might reveal more connections; taste, smell, and true hearing being added to the sensations they all now shared—until they were molded into not three individuals, but a single being that had been slowly stripped away and finally ripped apart into three bloody pieces of the same heart. But decisions were made, and it was agreed upon that the three of them were to be prepped and connected to the Morphogenic Engine together. The three of them had become so intertwined after all, that maybe having all three of them hooked to the Engine at once would cause them not only to share the same lucid dreaming state, but enter the same lateral ascension needed to become host to the Walrider.

The first time the three of them would be together in the same room in five months, three weeks, and six days. And they wouldn’t even be awake for it. 

And a day ago—informed that they should be honoured to have finally reached this important milestone in Project Walrider—all three of them had requested, begged, pleaded that they be allowed to spend even ten minutes together again beforehand. Each of the doctors sent to talk to them had rolled their eyes and simply stated that they were under no positions to be making demands. But, seeing as they had been such good and educational guinea pigs, they would maybe consider it.

They would never know what the final answer would be, because a little over two hours ago good old Billy had reached lateral ascension and everything went to shit.

And now, they had all managed to escape the rooms that had been holding them apart from each other—Ash and Chris from their respective rooms in the Female and Male Wards and Josh from his cell in the Prison Block—and were in the process navigating the maze that Mount Massive Asylum was quickly becoming. And with blood caked between their toes, screams of the dying—patients and staff alike—echoing down every hall and in every room, and the taste of freedom becoming stronger with every step closer they got to each other, they didn’t have time to be doing this. 

They shouldn’t be doing this. Both of them knew that they shouldn’t be doing this. Hell, technically all three of them knew that they shouldn’t be doing this. But well, it had been five months, three weeks, and six days since the three of them had been in the same room. So as Josh had shoved Chris up against the wall in one of the little alcoves in the Male Ward’s basement to make up for all one hundred and seventy-six days apart, everybody else could fuck right off because they needed this.

They could claim this as an personal experiment later, not that Ashley would believe them then, cause she certainly didn’t now. The two of them could sense her exasperation and unsurprised acceptance amid her own want just as clearly as she and Josh could feel the red-hot throbbing of Chris’s still bleeding arm, the long and deep gash burin hot and painful where Trager had caught him with the edge of his bone shears. His hands had been too shaky to firmly grasp the door knob, and his reflexes too slow to try and fully evade the blades in time.

Not that anyone would be able to guess that now. Thankfully, it had seemed that the closer the two of them had gotten, the more their own personal afflictions had faded. Chris couldn’t remember the last time his grip had been so firm as he held Josh as close as he was able, and Josh was dimly amused that the first thing he was doing with his now more mobile tongue was shoving it as far into Chris’s mouth as he could.

The two of them felt like they could have stayed in that alcove for ages, hiding from other Variants who had become so lost and absorbed by the Engine’s touch that they would have been killed without a thought. Slowly becoming reacquainted with a body that had once been as familiar to them as their own, that they had only been allowed to touch and remember in dreams, but they needed to move on.

Need. Move. Please. Miss you. Please.

That was all that was needed. As closer to completion that Chris and Josh were feeling, Ashley was still out there. Alone. And as fogged as ever. From her eyes, they could see the dark shapes of doorways and tossed bedframes as she scrambled through wreckage so frantically and desperately that they could feel the phantom stones and glass digging into the soles of their bare feet. The two of them reluctantly separated, and there was no denying the fact that despite having Josh next to him, Chris’s hands still shook as though going through withdrawals. Not that it would be far from the truth of course, not having Josh or Ashley in his life had definitely been akin to stopping an addiction cold turkey.

“Well, let’s get a move on, hey Cochise?” Despite the ease of the lopsided smile on his face, the voice that came out was raw with disuse and the words felt fat and wrong on his tongue. “Don’t wanna run in to Big Debbie now do we?”

If Chris Walker wanted to kill them like he had everyone else so far—heads ripped off their bodies as easily as popping the top of a dandelion from it’s stem—then he could goddamn wait until they met back up with Ash.

They had been apart for five months, three weeks, and six days. They refused to add on even one more day.

They refused to make it six months.

[vgckwb]

P5R: Rebel Girl (A FeMC Story/P5R Rework) Chapter 30: Taking Stock

On Wednesday, Ren decided to stock up on materials needed for the infiltration. First she paid a visit to Takemi’s clinic to grab some medicine. “Hey doc” she said, upon entering.

“Well well, how’s my favorite guinea pig?” Takemi responded.

“Well, we just got done with midterms, so that’s a load off my shoulders” Ren said.

“That’s nice to hear,” Takemi said. “Say, if you have time, I could use your help today.”

Well, I wasn’t planning on going after Madarame right away. “OK” Ren answered.

Takemi smiled. “This is why you’re my favorite guinea pig.”

“Don’t tell me you have a side guinea pig” Ren smirked. Morgana snuck out of her bag to roam around while this was all happening.

Takemi chortled. “Alright, step into my office.” Ren opened the door. “And as much as I would like to, no, I don’t have a ‘side guinea pig’. I’m afraid you’re the only one for me.”

Ren giggled and she stepped in. She liked Dr. Takemi. She had her sense of humor. Although at the same time, that worried Ren a little. People with her sense of humor typically didn’t get it from a society that cares about them. At least according to her experience.

Once Ren had sat down, Takemi offered her a new dose of medicine. “Here. It’s been refined since last time.” Ren looked at the medicine. “Whenever you’re ready.”Ren swallowed the medicine. Almost instantly, she passed out.

Ren woke up sometime later. “Ughhhhhhh” she said, getting out of it.

“So, how do you feel?” Takemi asked.

Ren blinked a few times. “I’m feeling alright, I guess. This all feels sudden compared to last time.”

“Hm, I see. I should take note of that.” Takemi began writing down notes. Her office got a phone call. She picked up. “Hello?...Yes, this is a medical clinic...What?...I’m sorry, but this place is ill equipped to deal with such an emergency...Yes, I understand...Very well. Bring them to the Takemi Medical Cli-...Heh. They hung up on me.” She put the phone down.

“That sounded kind of serious,” Ren said.

“Oh, don’t worry. There’s a hospital nearby, and the patient in question will be fine waiting a little longer to get there” Takemi explained. “Still, all it took was for them to know my name to hang up on me.” She sighed.

“You alright?” Ren asked.

“Yeah. I’m used to it at this point” Takemi lamented.

“You wanna talk about it?” Ren asked.

Takemi looked at her. “Why not?” she answered. “Remember how that officer called me ‘The Plague’?” Ren nodded. “Well, before this job, I used to work at a prestigious hospital. However, I got blamed for a medical error that nearly cost a patient their life. I was forced to resign and was given that nickname.”

Ren thought for a moment. “Did you cause it?” Takemi looked at her. “The medical error, I mean…”

“Well, that’s what the reports say,” Takemi said.

“But did you do it?” Ren insisted.

“Why does it matter?” Takemi said, defensively.

“Because… I might also have experience getting blamed for something I didn’t do…” Ren said solemnly.

Takemi looked at her. “I see... “ She came over and gave Ren a hug. “I didn’t do anything either. It’ll be OK.”

Ren was stunned. She then reciprocated the hug. “Yeah. I’m sure everything will be OK for you too.”

They let go. “Hm” Takemi chuckled. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’m quite content here for now.”

“Eh, miracles could happen” Ren reminded her.

“Miracles, huh” Takemi said. “As a doctor, I’m more on the scientific side of things. But if one were to happen, I’d take it.”

“I getcha,” Ren said.

“So, what's your crime?” Takemi asked.

“Oh, well…” Ren hesitated. “Um, someone said that I assaulted them when I didn’t…”

Takemi stared at her. “If you can tell me their name, I can make it look like an accident.” Ren was shocked. “That was a joke of course. I’m a doctor. I heal people, not kill them.”

“Oh. He he” Ren laughed nervously.

“But if you ever need help proving your innocence again, don’t hesitate to call me” Takemi assured her.

“Thanks,” Ren replied.

“Well, in any case, I’m going to need to go over your results,” Takemi said. “Is there anything you need?” Ren nodded and made her purchases. “Very well. You’ve been a tremendous help today. Both in terms of the test, and just being a friend for me. It’s been a while since I’ve felt good about things. Maybe once this medicine gets done, I can hold my head high again.”

“I’d like to see that,” Ren said. “Thank you.”

Death-Tae Takemi: Rank 3

Later, Ren headed down Central Street and made her way towards Untouchable. She walked in and bought some equipment. “Psst” Morgana whispered. “Are you going to ask about the gun?” Ren nodded and turned back to the shopkeeper.

Before Ren could say anything,the store owner spoke up. “By the way, change of plans. You can keep the bag. It’d be a hassle for you to bring back.”

“I see,” Ren said. “To be honest, I… kind of opened the bag. From what I saw, it looked pretty cool.”

The owner looked at her. “You think?”

Ren nodded. “And I was kind of wondering, would you be able to sell me that kind of stuff in the future?”

The shopkeeper’s attention was now fully on her. He looked her up and down. “Step into the back please.” Ren felt a little nervous, but played along anyway. This man didn’t give off the same kind of energy Kamoshida did, and even if he was a creep, she wouldn’t feel the need to hesitate and punch him. As Ren entered, the man followed her in. He closed the door. “Alright, what are you up to?” he asked.

Ren looked at him. “I’m just an enthusiast.”

The man glared at her. “Please, I know you’re up to something. You wouldn’t have come to me with that medal if you were just an enthusiast.” He sighed. “But then again, whatever it is you’re up to can’t be all bad.” Ren was curious. “You didn’t rat me out to those officers when you sold that medal to me.”

“We had a deal, didn’t we?” Ren said.

“Yeah, but you could have gone back on it” the owner said. “You had the money already. You had what you needed.”

“Yeah, but then where would I go for fake weapons that are this good in quality?” Ren responded.

“Heh” the shopkeeper said. “Flattery will only take you so far, but I’m a sucker for it. Alright, I’ll hear you out on this. You don’t need to tell me anything necessarily, but this kind of transaction needs to be built on trust.”

Ren looked at him. “Do you have anything in mind?” she asked.

“Well, I was thinking, if you help me out, I can help you out as well” the owner said. “But you also have to understand, I don’t need to answer any questions either, go it?”

“Got it,” Ren said.

“Hm. A fast learner. I like that” the man said.

“A lot of people seem to,” Ren replied.

“So that’s the deal then. You work for me, and I’ll give you access to the secret menu” the shopkeeper said. “Is there anything I should know about before the deal becomes final?”

Ren felt a little bad. “Well, if you’re having problems with the police, then I doubt it would be helpful for me to be here too often. I have an arrest record after all.”

“Heh. Join the club” the owner said. “I doubt whatever they have you on is much compared to me. If any officer comes around, chances are they’re after me. Still, it’s nice that we have this connection. Adds another layer of trust, you know?” Ren giggled. He reached out his hand. “Munehisa Iwai.”

Ren shook his hand. “Ren Amamiya.”

“Well Ren, pleasure doing business with you” Iwai said.

I am thou... Thou art I… Thou hast acquired a new vow...

It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity.

With the birth of the Hanged Man Persona I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power.

Hanged Man-Munehisa Iwai: Rank 1

“It’s getting kind of late right now, so you don’t need to do anything today,” Iwai said. “Just be sure to stop by whenever I need help.”

“Got it,” Ren said. They exchanged contact information, and Ren headed back to Leblanc for the night.

[chicgeekgirl89]

The Honeymooners: Chapter 1

A/N: Our favorite, MARRIED, couple is back on vacation again this year, this time on their honeymoon. But things aren’t going to go exactly according to plan because where’s the fun in that?!

Read my other Densi summer vacation fics here and here. 

                                      XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Peru here we come!” Kensi said as the plane took off. She squeezed Deeks’ hand. “I’m so excited!”

“A little delayed, but definitely worth the wait,” Deeks said.

After months of agonizing they’d finally pulled the trigger on a belated honeymoon to Peru; a total minimal, adventurous trip. They’d each packed a backpack and boarded a flight to Miami. Once there they would connect to Lima and join up with a humanitarian aid group for five days. Then it was five days all to themselves exploring the country as they pleased.

Kensi pulled up one of the Instagram accounts she’d started following in preparation for the trip. “Just look at this hiking excursion. These views are going to be incredible.”

“Not as incredible as the one I have right now,” Deeks said.

“Aw, baby.” She’d always scoffed at people who mooned over each other after their wedding but she had to admit, this silly newlywed thing was kind of fun.

“I’m really looking forward to some deep fried guinea pig,” Deeks said.

“You’re really going to eat a guinea pig? Even with its cute little face?” He’d been talking about it ever since he’d found out about the local delicacy and she was pretty disgusted.

“Absolutely! When in Lima…”

“That is so gross.”

“What? A nice little guinea pig sandwich? Sounds delicious.”

“It’s like eating a rat!”

“You just said it had a cute face! How can you say it’s cute and then call it a rat?”

“I’m not kissing you while you have guinea pig breath.”

That paused him for a second. “I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah you better.”

“Aw, newlyweds?” A flight attendant paused their seats, her smile bright.

Kensi slipped her arm through Deeks’. “Yes. We’re on our belated honeymoon to Peru.”

“To Peru! What an exciting choice!”

“Well we’re the adventurous type,” Deeks told her. “Have you been?”

She nodded. “It’s beautiful. Definitely worth all the hiking.”

“And how exactly are the guinea pig burgers?”

She shook her head. “Not to my liking. I can’t offer you one of those, but how about a complimentary glass of champagne to celebrate?”

“That sounds perfect.”

She gave them each a glass and then continued down the aisle. 

The extra seat in their row was empty, leaving them plenty of room to cuddle and watch the latest Marvel movie. The champagne made Kensi sleepy and she dozed off on Deeks’ shoulder towards the end of the movie. When she woke up he was watching a romcom they’d missed at the theater last year because of a case. 

“How long was I out?” she asked pushing her hair out of her face.

He checked his watch. “Couple hours. We’re over Florida.”

She wiped her mouth and wrinkled her nose. “Was I drooling?!”

He smiled. “A little.”

She punched his shoulder. “Why didn’t you wake me up?!”

“It was cute.” He shrugged. “You were tired. You need some sleep before we go hike the mountains all day and,” he grinned, “party all night.”

“You wanted me to get some rest so I could have sex with you all night long? In our tent? After not showering all day?” She raised her eyebrows.

“…yes?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love me right?”

“I’m reconsidering.”

He held up his left hand. “Nuh uh. You’re stuck with me Fern. Are you seriously telling me we’re not having any sex on our honeymoon? Isn’t that the whole point of a honeymoon? To make babies?”

“Who’s making babies?!” Kensi asked, looking around.

“I’m kidding. But seriously. No sex?”

“Nope. Not happening. Not unless I’ve showered. And you’ve brushed the guinea pig out of your teeth.”

“Well I wish I’d known that ahead of time,” he grumbled. “I would have made more of an effort last night.”

He looked so cute sitting there all forlorn. They hadn’t had much time together alone in the last few weeks. And last night they’d gotten home late after work practically dead on their feet. Things hadn’t been super romantic lately. In fact she could hardly remember the last time they’d had a moment alone together. Ten days in a tent suddenly seemed like a really long time.

“Well,” she traced a pattern on the back of his hand with her fingers, keeping her voice low, “we’re not in Peru yet.”

He frowned. “Yeah because we’re on a plane.”

“There are ways to…get around that.” He still looked confused so she leaned close and whispered. “We could always join the mile high club.”

His eyes grew huge. “Babe…don’t say things like that unless you mean them.”

She bit her lip and reached for her seatbelt.

The plane dropped. People screamed. Overhead bins opened and people’s bags crashed to the floor. For one, heart stopping moment it felt like the world was ending. Kensi grabbed Deeks’ hand and he squeezed it tightly, using the other to grip his armrest. 

The plane leveled out and they could hear passengers around them crying in confusion and pain. The intercom made a dinging sound as it turned on. “Ladies and gentlemen this is your captain. We are having difficulty with our onboard computer and will need to make an emergency landing in Jacksonville at this time. Please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened,” the captain said.

“You good?” Deeks asked, all thoughts of airplane sex gone from his mind.

Kensi nodded, her heart still racing. “I’m going to go see if anyone needs help,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

“I’ll come with you,” she said.

They both ignored the pilot’s warning and got out of their seats. People seemed to be in pretty good shape, a little shaken but mostly unharmed. One older woman was hyperventilating so Kensi knelt next to her while Deeks continued through the cabin. 

“Oh my god! Cherise! Cherise wake up!”

Deeks hurried toward the worried cries and found one of the flight attendants bent over a body on the floor. A closer look told him it the was the attendant who’d brought them their champagne and she was knocked out cold, blood running down her face. “Hey, I’m an officer with the LAPD,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“Monica,” the woman said, her voice shaky. “She must have gotten hit when the overhead bins opened up.”

“All right, listen, go make an announcement and find out if we have any medical professionals on board. And then find the first aid kit.”

She nodded and hurried away. “Here.” Deeks looked up to find a teenage girl handing him a scarf. “You’re supposed to put pressure on it right?”

He smiled. “Nice job MacGyver. Thanks.”

He wrapped the make-shift bandage around Cherise’s head and reached to take her pulse. He felt a hand on his shoulder and Kensi knelt next to him. “Hey what do you need?” she asked.

“The flight attendant went to get the first aid kit. Just keep her head steady for me.”

Cherise’s pulse was fast but steady. “Cherise,” Deeks ran a fist over her sternum. “Cherise can you hear me?”

Her eyes fluttered open. “Hey don’t try to move all right?” Deeks said, glancing up at Kensi who tightened her grip. They couldn’t rule out a neck injury and if she panicked and started moving it might make things worse.

“What---what happened?” Cherise asked, a hand fluttering toward her head.

“There was some turbulence and you were hit by some luggage,” Deeks said slowly and calmly. “Your friend Monica went to get the first aid kit.”

“Okay.” She grimaced. “My head hurts.”

“Yeah I’m not surprised. You’re doing great though. Can you tell me where you are?”

“Uh, um, I’m on flight 2042 to Lima.”

“Nice. And who’s the president?”

She looked at him in confusion. “Of Lima?”

“No, no,” he laughed. “Sorry, of the United States.”

She gave him a withering look. “I don’t talk about him.”

“Correct answer then,” Deeks said.

Monica returned with the first aid kit and another man in tow. “I’m a doctor,” he said, snapping on a pair of rubber gloves. “Don Feldstein.”

“Marty Deeks, LAPD. This is my wife Kensi,” Deeks said.

“Good to meet you. How are we doing here?”

The doctor checked out their patient and since they were no longer needed Kensi and Deeks returned to their seats. 

“Hopefully she’ll only need some stitches,” Kensi said.

“Hopefully. And hopefully we can get off this plane and make some new travel arrangements.”

“I mean would it even be a vacation if something didn’t go horribly wrong?”

“This is it. This is the only complication. Everything else is going to be smooth sailing,” Deeks said.

Kensi sent him a look. “Do you really believe that?”

“Just…put out the good universe vibes with me all right?” He hesitated.

“What?” she asked.

“Were you really going to wait for me in the bathroom?”

“Seriously? That’s what you’re asking about after we almost just died?”

“That was barely a near-death experience. We’ve had Tuesdays scarier than that!” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who suggested it,” he said.

“Well I guess you’re just going to have to wait until after your guinea pig sandwiches now because I’m definitely not in the mood.”

They both sat back in their seats. Suddenly this honeymoon seemed a little less romantic and a whole lot more like work.

[haikyuu-imagines-and-others]

Hello lovelies! Hope life is going well for you. I've been having a rough few days and was hoping I could request a soulmate AU with Asahi or Tsukishima or Ushijima meeting reader for the first time on V-day. Reader is an ex-vball player and was going through physical therapy because they just want to play again. If not, no worries I completely understand. But if so you'd literally be my favorite person right now.

I love SoulMateAU!!!! I love all of them so very much! I’m sorry this is so late though haha its May and this was supposed to be posted around Valentines??? Please forgive me! And thank you for requesting! - Admin Satori

SoulMateAU Selected: @virgno Soulmate au where instead of having the first thing they say tattooed on each other, they instead have a random sentence tattooed that that person will say around them. And so you know it’s not just a coincidence when they say it, the tattoo stings and fades away.

Azumane Asahi:

How could something so insignificant be hurting you so much after years of being dormant? All you’d done is use your knees for receiving on your college Volleyball team! That’s all! And now you’re knees felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets!

You hadn’t thought anything of the pain, initially - mostly because you’d been dealing with pain your whole life. Sports life was rough on the body, after all.

But before you knew it, you were falling to the ground while walking to your next class. You managed to save yourself, gripping onto the bannister next to the stairs. But one of your knees still tapped against the hard floor…. You’d been hit in the face with a spiked volleyball almost too many times to count, and that didn’t come close to the pain you felt explode from your knee!

Thankfully, you’d been near some friends, and they helped you to your feet, scared to touch you in case it’d somehow affect you further! But you were a trooper, no amount of pain was going to keep you down! “I shouldn’t have fallen so many times…” You couldn’t help but regret your favorite move of falling to your knees right in front of the falling ball. While, hell yeah did it look cool, it was terrible for your body. So many shocking stops rocked through your body every time you pulled off that save. The crowds would go wild, you’d feel pride swelling in your chest, and the game would continue on.

The abuse of your body would keep taking its toll on it.

“I’m fine, I swear! Just go to class and I’ll see you later, okay?” Your friend frowned, not believing you’d be alright - not because you wouldn’t recover but because they knew you’d just go at the sport again. It wasn’t Volleyball season, so you had a break from the sport… but you’d be back. The game had you by the soul.

You don’t know how long you sat in the waiting room, feeling your knee twinge now and then, not knowing if it felt more ticklish or painful to react properly. If you were being honest with yourself, you were scared to touch it. Worried you’d somehow screw it up more. Which would’t be a surprise to you, since you were the reason you were sitting alone in the on campus physicians office anyway.

After a few minutes of staring at the clock on the wall across from you, being lulled into a sort of rhythmic trance, you pulled your attention away from it…. To instead stare down at your inner arm.

At the tattoo that’d plagued your body since the day you were born.

“T-Tsubaki-Sensei, I need your signature for this.”

What a dumb thing to have written on you. Did your soul mate have a speech impediment? Who was Tsubaki-Sensei? Why’d they need a signature?

Irritation had formed in the pit of your stomach as soon as you’d known what the tattoo meant. The first words your soul mate uttered. Either to you or not was really up to the fates. Your last name wasn’t Tsubaki. You didn’t know anyone by that last name, or first! There were so many places that needed the signature of a superior or advisor… You’d felt an irritation of hopelessness gnawing at your heart for the longest time. As far back as you could remember, really, there’d always been that feeling of ‘I’ll never find them’. Desperation or depression, you were torn between the two.

If anyone asked, you’d claim you’d given up. Didn’t care whether you’d find them or not - that it was their loss if neither of you found the other. Truly their loss since you were obviously so amazing, right? Your thoughts soured, taking your mind off the still twitching pain of your knee.

“I just want to go home.” Oh how you wanted to pull your legs to your chest and hide your face in your knees…. But you didn’t - that would hurt more than they were right now. And you were in public…. You could wait to get home to cry… Alone in your room and wondering where in the vast world was your ‘soul mate’.

The door to the physicians offices opened, revealing a sweet looking young woman, “_______-san? The Doctor will see you now.”

You wanted to be rude. You wanted to point out that the ‘doctor’ wasn’t really a doctor. He was nothing more than a student practicing on others to further his experience. If you’d really had the choice, you would have gone to see your family physician, someone you trusted to actually take care of you and not treat you like a guinea pig.

But you held your tongue and struggled to your feet, feeling your knees protest when you almost feel forward. Karma for wanting to be rude, you supposed. But you paid no mind to it and pushed forward, reaching the door a bit later after the announcement than you would have liked.

The nurse, much shorter than you, offered you her hand as a form of support. And you took it. “That looks pretty painful… We’ll probably be giving you crutches until we get your X-Rays back.” It was going to be a long day, you knew she wanted to say. Or at least a long recovery road.

“Well, as long as I heal quickly. I have plans for the Volleyball season coming up.”

The young lady didn’t say anything in response, internally shaking her head at your stubbornness. Physical Therapy was a timely thing, that you’d have to partake in, if you were ever going to get any better. But she remained silent, knowing you were in a foul mood from your sudden injury. Helping you onto the examination table, she took her report clipboard and took some information from you. Name, birthday, last four of social, student ID - even your blood type.

You weren’t in the mood to deal with so many pleasantries. You wanted nothing more than to go back to class. For a second you found amusement in your preference. School over a sick day? Imagine that.

Just as the young woman was about to ask you to stretch your leg out - to see the extent of your damaged knee, the examination room door opened to reveal an older man. If you had to guess, you’d say he was about 3 years older than you. A Senior. Getting his PhD. Practicing on students who had serious ailments or issues.

“My, My, Now what happened to you? Slip and fall?” You shook your head, “Jump down five stories and land rough?” Another shake of your head, “Past sports injury?” No movement from you had the doctor smiling before holding up a beige folder, “It’s in your file.” God, now you were really irritated. You just wanted to go home. Or class. Whichever got you furthest away from this supposedly funny doctor. “I’m Dr. Tsu-“

The door opened once more, and you felt a flash of anger rise from your chest - weren’t there enough people in the room making fun of your pain? You didn’t need any more!

A young man peeked around the door to see the doctor was waiting patiently for him to speak, “T-Tsubaki-Sensei, I need your signature for this.” He walked into to room, beelining straight for the doctor for what he needed so he could go.

New pain. Searing on your arm - as if someone took a flame and held it close to your skin. You inhaled sharply and pulled your arm to your chest, feeling your skin throb from the sudden irritation to it. Letting out a deep sigh, one that held the aftereffects of catching your breath, you looked down at your arm.

But you had to do a double take. Once at the young man who’d entered - scruffy looking almost, man bun, dark… deep, cute… brown eyes that kept looking around the room anxiously - then back at the tattoo… that HAD been on your arm. It was gone. Completely Gone.

The only thing that remained, to give an inkling to the presence of a tattoo to begin with…. Was a simple scar - very light, as if you’d gone to get the tattoo removed.

Then your eyes were back on the young man, and he noticed your staring almost immediately. He coughed uncomfortably, not seeing the current surprise and dilemma you felt in your heart. You’d SEEN this guy before. You’d known about him - about his high school records on his volleyball team. Azumane Asahi. The famed Ace of Karasuno’s Revival… And he was here in the physicians office? Nowhere near your current clique. So far from your possible reach.

How would you have ever found him? If not for this moment? If not for your injury.

“You? You’re supposed to be mine?” How could you not be incredulous? Years you’d wondered who he was talking to, why he had to answer to anyone, why he had a stutter to his voice - was he anxious? Scared? Worried? Come to find out, he was all three at once - a bundle of nerves just for you. Azumane Asahi was your soul mate.

Asahi suddenly hissed, his hand pressing against his ribcage - feeling a burning sensation wrack through his body. But his lightbulb went off faster than yours had - and then he was staring back at you with wide brown eyes, a soft blush coming to his cheeks when he realized just how…. Sudden this meeting was… he looked a mess and you… well, you looked beautiful. He’d heard about you, too. You were a legend from your own Volleyball team, the current volleyball team. “_-_-_______? It’s… It’s you?”

Despite the suddenness of the reconnection of two souls in all the cosmos, you couldn’t help the fond smile on your face, prompting his own to imitate you, “So… I’m assuming your my Physical Therapy Doctor?”

Tsukishima Kei:

“Are you dense?”

What kind of asshole would you end up with that would talk to you like that? All these years, you’d been self conscious - not only of your intellectual impact and skill, but of the words that marked your body. How negative and rude they’d seem on your worst of days.

To make up for your soulmates already predetermined foul mood, you’d tried so hard to be positive - to show the light in the darkness, to be able to lend a hand or a shoulder for friends who were drowning in their own sorrows…. Not that they truly had much to be sad about… You were the one with an asshole for eternity.

But thinking like that would only cause darkness to enter your heart, so you pushed those thoughts away… Because you wouldn’t let your rude soulmate predetermine your own attitude.

“I wonder if he’s actually really nice… Like a total sweetheart.”

You were shaking your head before they finished with their sentence, “I doubt it… What kind of ‘nice’ person belittles someone without even knowing them?” Your close friend, Yuki, was quite the optimist when the two of you were compared. You wondered if your soulmate would make a better pair with her rather than you, who had to try your hardest at being kind and nice. It was just so easy to be rude and sarcastic!

Yuki shrugged, “Well, who knows? You might be surprised- ______! Watch out!”

Before you could understand what she was warning you about, a large mass came crashing into your body, effectively knocking the air out of you. Their form was much larger than yours, and you stepped back in a barely recognizable sense to equalize their weight with your own. But your foot caught the wrong angle of the curb of the walkway, and you felt your ankle roll under your weight.

Thankfully, the body of the young man who’d crashed into you was removed, and apologies went flying when they realized you’d drop to take in the damage of your ankle. But you didn’t cry. You bit your lip harshly, tears springing in your eyes, and heavy breathing wracking your lungs. But not a single whimper escaped from your. Which the young man thought was odd, “I am so so sorry! Oh my God… Here, let me help you… “

You wanted to push him away, wanted to beg Yuki to tell him to leave - hell you wanted to curse your lungs out at the idiotic boy who throws his body around like a ragdoll! You had quite the extensive vocabulary for curses, so you knew it would hit home at one insult or the other.

But you only pressed your lips together tightly and nodded your head, feeling Yuki’s softer hands reach down to help you back to your one good foot, “______, it’s alright to cry, you’re hurt!” Your inhale was shaky and slow, and Yuki’s eyebrows shot up, “Uh.. Yeah we need to get her to the nurse as soon as possible…. She’s about to lose it.”

“Like her mind?”

“Like her patience.” The young man jumped into action and swooped you into his arms before trotting over to the nurses station inside the building. The journey was less than comfortable, and you felt every single of his footfalls shoot electric fire to your jarred ankle.

Thankfully, the scene of the accident wasn’t far from medical help, and you were sitting in an examination room before you could really come to terms with the pain currently ripping through your ankle. The young man stayed with you, his guilt pulling his senses from any other priority he’d had before crashing into you.

You supposed on a certain level you appreciated his taking responsibility for what he’d done. But more so than not you wanted to punch his damn lights out for possibly putting your volleyball career in jeopardy.

“________ was it? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention and I was just doing my afternoon jog around the school and I guess I got so into picking the music and - “

He shut his mouth as soon as you held up your hand, he was well trained and you briefly wondered by who but it ultimately didn’t matter, “Look, I just need you to shut up and let me mourn the loss of my foot, okay?” The door opened and in came in a tall, lanky, blond young man - not 2 years older than yourself you were sure. He was good looking, but you were currently giving the jarhead to your left the chewing out of his lifetime. “Thanks to you, I’ll never be able to play volleyball again, do you realize that? It’s all your fault, you blind idiot.”

You could have sworn you saw the doctor flinch.

Years of being nice and kind and sweet, crumbling before you in a split second - an accident that could cause your entire life to fall apart was all it took for your patience to completely snap. The young man looked downright ashamed, his shoulders low, his head hung, his eyebrows furrowed as he internally wracked his brain for anything to say to make up for what he’d probably done.

Cool fingers touched the heated, swelling of your ankle, and you jumped in surprise - restraining your knee jerk reaction to kick the perv in the face! But when you looked down at your ankle, you saw the top of the blond doctor’s head. He didn’t say a word, just allowed his fingertips to gently, with a ghostly stroke, poke and prod your ankle. He was a professional, it seemed, so you didn’t question him.

Shifting beside you had you glaring at the young sports boy, “I don’t think your career is ruined…. Maybe delayed… You know there are a lot of great athletes who’ve had to go through physical therapy to get their movement back.”

Your glare didn’t lessen, in fact you threw in an ‘unimpressed eyebrow’ to make it more severe. You felt eyes on your face, and when you glanced back down to the doctor, you could have sworn he’d turned his attention back to your ankle. Though there was a slight uplift to his cheek… As if he were smiling at you giving this jock the business.

“I know you don’t believe me, _____, but it’s going to work out! It’s going to be hard as hell, but it’ll be fine! Physical therapy is the end all to accidents!”

The fingers on your ankle stilled, and the blond doctor tilted his head a bit, his eyes squinted as if he were trying to see through what the jock had said to see the truth… Or at least the sense of his words. His lips pursed, then pressed together to keep what he had to say to himself.

But in the end, he couldn’t contain himself. “Are you dense? Physical therapy doesn’t fix everything, moron. You’re lucky it’s only a sprained ankle and not something worse. What kind of idiot thinks Physical Therapy can solve everything they screw up on?”

Stinging pulled your attention from the conversation in front of you, pulled it straight to your hip. Your hand rested over the tingling you felt under your waistband, but you needed to know. You needed to know now. So you leaned back on the examination table, resting on your hand as you pulled down the waistband of your pants just enough to see where your tattoo…. Had been.

All that remained was irritated skin… And the outline of what had once marked your body for so long.

“Jeez, Tsukishima, you don’t have to be an asshat about it just because you’re a fancy pre-med.” The jock held up his hands in mock defense, finding the doctors insults to be a bit much even for his track record.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you finally looked up from your hip, away from the red skin, from the faint hint of a tattoo…

And you met the eyes of the young man who’d uttered the rude words that had plagued your entire life. Hardened gold, sharp and observing…. You. The gulp that rushed down your throat was not your decision, but at the sight of it the doctor, Tsukishima, sent you a smirk.

“I thought… I thought you’d say that to me…” It was so soft, you weren’t even sure you’d call that a whisper, especially not coming from you.

Tsukishima stood up straight; You hadn’t noticed how tall he was when he’d entered the room. It was almost like he was ignoring you as he picked up your medical record and made his notes, indicating what actions he’d taken and what would be the next steps in your recovery. “Ryo… You can go now - I’ll issue her a pair of crutches and contact someone who can help her to her dorm.” The young man, Ryo, went to protest, but Tsukishima shooed him away without another word.

“Good luck, ______… Salty-shima.” A baby snide, but it had you snickering at your doctors expense.

Then silence enveloped the room, the air between you and Tsukishima seemed… charged.. Or maybe expecting… The two of you had been destined for the other, so you’d both known this moment was coming… That didn’t make either of you prepared for the moment you’d meet. And while the two of you tried to grasp at anything to say to the other, to their own soulmate, Tsukishima took his time in wrapping your very angrily swollen ankle in a tight but necessary gauze.

“Did you know who I was…? When you walked in?”

He hadn’t thought you’d notice his flinch, so he nodded, “The inside of my bicep felt on fire. But I had no idea it would be you before this. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?” A small teasing smirk, and you felt your heart soar into your throat, making a blush bloom across your cheeks at just the sight of something so snarky.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to hit him or kiss him.

“Oh, nothing to say?” Another smirk, and you could feel his poking at your self control, “I figured you’d give me some sort of challenge.” You cleared your throat and he glanced up at you curiously, raising a fine blond eyebrow.

“My challenges seem to be more of the…. Physical … type….” You winked, and internally you were screaming. Did you really just come on to your own soulmate within the first hour of meeting each other?? What kind of horn-dog were you??

But an amused chuckle escaped his mouth as he rose back to full height, taking note in your record as he dug, “Not with that ankle they aren’t.”

You had never been so excited to be bullied.

Ushijima Wakatoshi:

For years you’d felt a harsh sense of jealousy… eating you alive every moment you were with your friends or family… With people who’d both met their soulmate and those who hadn’t yet - no matter where you were you felt raging envy ripping you to shreds.

Not because you were alone.

Not because your tattoo, the first thing your soulmate would say to you, was placed oddly on the pressure point of your neck.

Neither of those things had cause the green monster inside you to cause havoc of your life. Those two were manageable.

“You.”

That’s what your tattoo said. Simple. One word. You couldn’t remember the last time ‘you’ wasn’t used in talking to another human being, animal, plant - for fucks sake you were sure it was used when referring to companies and buildings! You wouldn’t doubt it at the very least!

So realizing how ultimately futile it would be for you to talk to every single person, and get your hopes up every single time their first word to you wasn’t you… it’d been the day you’d lost all hope. There wasn’t a point to searching for him anymore.

After the sense of despair of helplessness passed, though, you moved onto rejection. Did you really want a man who only said one word to his soulmate? One word to anyone in general? Why would you want someone so communicatively delayed?

Your course of action at that time was to avoid anyone of the opposite sex that you hadn’t talked to already. Purposely turning the other way and walking away without an explanation. You’d even done it to a few professors when they’d come to welcome you to their class. You’d be damned if you ever met this bastard who couldn’t talk to save his ass.

When you tripped over a fellow player during a Volleyball game, you thought you’d hit the jackpot! This meant being home, bedridden, the only people coming or going would be friends and family, people who knew you and could actually talk like normal adults!

But the stars in your eyes had immediately beens snuffed out when you came to conclusion… If you didn’t fix your busted knee… you’d never be able to play your favorite sport ever again.

That had been your motivator. That had pushed you to go to physical therapy and take their medications to help with the pain. Those doctor meetings were quiet. Almost cold whenever the doctor referred to you, or asked for your opinion on something. Not that they really noticed, you offered, they were too busy making money off your injury.

The very first day in the physical therapy building, in the exercise workshop, you felt…. Something close to dread fill your body.

So many young men. Each with their own physical issues. None of which… you’d ever met before.

With each eager young man coming to you, introducing themselves and offering their help in your recovery, you felt more at ease. None of them hit that magic word. None of them seemed to care for anything other than possibly touching your body. Which you immediately put a stop to, saying you were fine helping yourself.

Each day a new young man came in with an injury, sometimes a girl, and each day someone would get healthy enough to pass the physical therapy challenge and move on with their lives. Move on from this obstacle of getting better and exercising their injured body part.

But no matter how much exercise you did… Your knee only seemed to get worse. Only hurt a little more every day.

Your hand slipped from the railing that held your weight as you exercised your knee. And you felt like you were immediately going to perish now that you had no support under you. Unknowingly, you let out a yelp of surprise when you fell forward.

But you didn’t hit the ground. Your legs hand’t buckled under you. In fact they were stock straight as if you had just been about to fall face first against the floor. You’d closed your eyes tightly but when you felt yourself being pulled back up to a standing position, albeit crouching since you still needed the support of the hand rails, you opened your eyes and turned your head to face your savior!

Olive eyes met your gaze dead on, and you felt a sense of… not quite unease, but more concern. Had he been staring at you the entire time? You cleared your throat, still dedicated to not uttering a word to any male. Not while you were still an unclaimed soul. You didn’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of the possibility. Especially your soulmate who didn’t even know how to properly talk to someone!

You recognized your savior. He was the ace of his high school, and you thought you’d seen his teams promotional pictures all over the campus to bring in the crowds to his college games. Ushijima, you thought his name was. Or something close to it. Thankfully, you noticed he wasn’t much of a talker either, he nodded to you before turning and doing his healing lunges back to the other side of the room.

From that day forward, you couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes. His furrowed eyebrows. Had he been waiting for you to say something? Had he been thinking you would? You’d wanted to, you wanted to be polite to anyone who helped someone out… But how could you risk it?

Not that there was much to risk. Your disappointment? Your pride? Maybe just a few seconds of your time?

It hadn’t been two weeks since he’d helped you from falling on your face, and you couldn’t stop glancing over in his direction whenever you were able. You didn’t think you were obvious, but more than a few times you’d catch his gaze - and a warmth would bloom in your chest before spreading across your cheeks and making you look away.

But he wasn’t innocent. More than a few times, you’d catch him staring at you. An unrecognized expression on his face, as if he were lost deep in thought. You’d heard around that Ushijima was more of the strong and silent type, only speaking when absolutely necessary or whenever he saw fit. You respected that about him. You’d also heard he was more of the gentle giant, that he usually looked very scary and unapproachable or even like a monster… but he was nothing more than a giant teddy bear.

So it wasn’t scary for you to walk straight up to him, with your crutches pinching your underarms, “Why are you always staring at me? Haven’t you seen someone recovering from a messed up knee before? Don’t you think you could be a little more subtle?” You huffed in frustration, sending him a glare, wanting him to know you didn’t appreciate his blatant staring. “What are you staring at?” Rhetorical, you knew it was you, but you wanted to know why. What about you was causing his eyes to return to you with every chance he got.

The flinch of his was so minuscule, so minor, you weren’t sure it was what you’d seen. Maybe one of his muscles twitched? Maybe he’d taken issue with what you’d accused him of.

But Ushijima felt an explosion of fluttering erupt in his chest, and the following warmth had his olive eyes softening as he stared down at you. He wasn’t one to make the first move, and thankfully you’d done that for him. So he didn’t feel too worried when he reached out and pushed your hair behind your ear.

Revealing your tattoo.

“You.”

Just as you were going to slap his hand away, accuse him of being like all the others and saying your tattoo just to make it seem like he was your soulmate…. You felt pain shock over your pressure point. As if your tattoo had erupted into flames.

Your hand reached up and covered your tattoo, or at least where it had been, and your eyes twinged almost closed while you stared up at him. Ushijima’s expression was unreadable as he lifted his shirt with his other hand, showing off his impressive torso. SO many muscles, so much skin to touch, your fingers twitched against your jaw - you WANTED to touch him.

But that wasn’t the reason he was flashing you. Your eyes took their time appreciating his physique before landing on his pectoral muscle… His knuckles resting on his skin just before his collarbone, just above the irritated skin. You could barely make out what it had said before burning him - but the trace remains pointed to your accusatory question.

So this was your communicatively delayed soulmate.

[ruffheroblog]

Consider the Following When Seeking Veterinary Pet Health Care

If you have ever bought or adopted a new pet, recently moved into a new location, or possibly you are just not happy with your present veterinarian, you will most likely be seeking a new vet in your city or town. There are several things you may need to ponder when finding a new vet for yourself.

Living with a pet can provide tremendous happiness and pleasure to any family. However, pet ownership also comes with many responsibilities and sometimes can create some anxiety.

Worldwide, families are constantly bringing home many kinds of small animals and the animal instantly becomes a pet and an important part of the family. Nobody can refute the obvious that a family pet is a continuous source of fun and entertainment. Having a pet is also been shown to assist people through stressful and difficult emotional times.

With that said, we all know that our loving pets are not immune to becoming ill, sick, or injured. All pet owners ought to take very special care of their loving pets. If the pet, be it a dog, cat, or whatever, demonstrates significant behavioral or personality changes, it is time to seek the quality veterinary care.

Pet-Veterinary Services Available

One of the first considerations you should know are what services the animal clinic or hospital has to offer. Find out if it is a full service veterinary hospital.

If it is a veterinary or animal clinic, you may need to take it somewhere else for emergencies, diagnostics, special care, or surgery. You will have to decide how important it is to you to have all services available in one location? Also, if finances are a consideration, then find out what types of payments will be accepted at the animal hospital or clinic.

Many different services are performed by veterinarians. Find out what services are provided. What about emergency care? Does the veterinarian offer emergency care service at his/her veterinary hospital or clinic? Or may be they have an affiliation with an emergency hospital or clinic and you have to take your pet there? Then you will need to know how close the emergency services are from you.

These are just a few of considerations to think about before selecting a new veterinarian.

What Kind of Animals Does the Veterinary Hospital See

Another question to consider when picking a veterinarian, is what kinds and species of animals does the veterinarian see and treat? If the doctor is a small animal veterinarian, they usually only care for dogs and cats. Sometimes this is referred to as a companion animal vet. However, some small animal vets may also provide vet pet care for small pets such as guinea pigs, rabbits, gerbils, and other similar animals. Be sure to ask prior to setting up an appointment for your pet.

How Far Away is the Animal Hospital or Veterinary Clinic

Depending on your veterinarian needs, how close your vet is to your home may be a consideration. This may be especially true if you have a pet that does not like traveling in a car. With most dogs, this is probably not an issue.

Ask Your Neighbors About Their Vet

A personal approval and recommendation, or simply word of mouth, is in many cases the best method of locating a new veterinarian. Your friends, local breeders, animal/pet organizations are a good beginning in your search.

When owning a dog or cat as a pet, obviously you should approach other dog or cat pet owners in your neighborhood and ask them about their veterinarian.  In this way you will receive direct knowledge and information about possibly where and who to take your dog or cat to if needed. This is one of the better ways choose professional and quality veterinarian.

You also want to have an animal clinic or hospital,  that both your pet and you like and feel comfortable with. You want to go into a veterinary hospital or clinic where you are greeted with a friendly smile and the staff is excited to see you and your pet. This is a great start for a good experience for you both.

Search the Internet for a Veterinarian or Veterinary Animal Hospital

Using the internet is obviously a popular resource for locating veterinarians. In this technology age, most pet animal vets have websites to promote their veterinary practice and pet healthcare services. If they don’t have a website, they may not be up to date on the latest veterinary medical news.

It is usually best to go with a veterinarian who has been practicing veterinary medicine and surgery for a significant time some time. At least 3 to 5 years minimum. Testimonials by clients (either on the vet’s site or other review websites) provide further information about the quality of professional services provided at an individual animal hospital or clinic. Be sure to read the veterinary services page.

This will provide you the services that are offered by the veterinarian without having to call. You want to look for services such as an in-hospital laboratory, general and orthopedic surgery, preferably digital radiography, pet micro chipping, and emergency services to list a few.

You can obtain additional information of the veterinarians and their clinics or hospitals from an online veterinary directories. These online vet directory listing websites allows a veterinarian to list the profile of his/her pet hospital or clinic. Of course, there is Google search and other search engines that will easily list vets in your area.

Other Sources to Look for a Veterinarian

Other places to locate veterinarians include the yellow pages/phone directories , the state/provincial veterinary association directory.

Conclusion

Finding the best veterinarian for you and your pet will take a little time and work. Not all of vets practice the same methods or treatment. You will need to remain patient when searching for veterinarians in your location.

[purkinje-effect]

The Purkinje Effect, 21

Table of Contents

“Such extensive damage.”

Carrington muttered to himself indiscernibly as he looked Geek over with various ginger palpations and medical devices. As the doctor scrutinized him, Geek sat obediently on the edge of one of the stone coffins, which had been simply left rather than move it when the Railroad had relocated its base of operations to this crypt. The stethoscope was ice-cold when it went to his chest and back to listen, but Geek didn’t really mind. The doctor clicked his tongue several times in disdain for the costliness of the treatment Geek had accepted so readily from Tinker Tom. The sample of excretion the doctor took from Geek’s scarred skin singed the swab, and he murmured in displeasure before trying again carefully with the side of an aluminum-barrel fountain pen. Geek watched while he did something with it, but couldn’t make out what he was doing.

“I’m surprised you’re even standing. This looks superficially similar to ghoulification, but I can’t reasonably assess the condition of your internal organs to verify that. What I can safely say is that you have definitely mutated. That dark mess you made seems to be a metal excretion achieved through a thiolated salt solution. Simply put, the diluted sulfuric acid from Tom’s serum infused in your bloodstream and a chemical reaction took place which leached all kinds of metal from your body via your sweat glands. Lead, iron, aluminum, even traces of uranium. That sludge in the floor will become a rich metal slag once the sweat evaporates. Did you all mean it literally when you said you’d eaten a Synth? Absolute revulsion aside, if you meant a Gen I or Gen II, that didn’t even have living tissues in it. No part of the earlier models isn’t toxic to a human being.”

Geek had watched Carrington gesticulate in near-exasperation without comment, taking in all he had to say.

“Mutated huh? Mutated... further.” He let out a heavy sigh, and picked at his now vacant right eye socket. “You wanted the whole story? I haven’t pieced everything together yet, but I’ll tell you what I have of it. I’m from Vault 82. South-Central Mass. I haven’t figured out what exactly the experiment was, but I know we was guinea pigs, an’ I know it had to do with feedin’ us goo for every meal. I just can’t tell ya whether the food dispensers screwin’ up was all according t’plan. I’ve got real cynical about all this shit over the years... I know for a fact I’m not the only one of us that started supplementin’ his diet with whatever appealed to him. The doc in Worcester called it pica, eatin’ all the things I personally can rattle off’s been on the menu, past hundred years or so. The food paste stopped bein’ enough on its own, when it was supposed to be a master-food with all the vitamins and junk anybody needed. Maybe it wasn’t the machines. Maybe it spoiled. Who knows how long the experiment was supposed to go on.”

“Why do you say your nutritional dependency was a mutation?”

“I’ve eaten a thousand different things, ate ‘em solid. An’ they never came out... undigested. I’ve been digestin’ everything I’ve eaten. Makes sense how I sweated? ...the metal. But it makes me wonder if that’s what use my sweat will serve me now, or if I gotta keep gettin’ more a Tom’s shots to detox.” Geek looked up knowingly and pointed at Carrington to catch him before garnering commentary, recognizing a gap in his story. “But y’know what I ain’t been digestin’? Actual fuckin’ food.”

“You... might try some normal food now.” Deacon had come up to them after changing back into his casual white dress shirt and slacks. “Ease into it.”

“You’ve mentioned preservatives before bein’ a factor in all this,” Hancock started, having been sitting in the doctor’s chair with his arms crossed the whole time. “Mister Intel might have a point. Maybe prewar food ain’t totally off-limits to ya. Fancy Lads are about as much of a nonfood as it gets. An’ you were eating on that tub of shortening. Usually easing into eating food again after being critically ill means lots of soup, but for you it might mean just bridging back to what you’re supposed to be eating.”

“You’re not entirely wrong to speculate such,” Carrington nodded, brow wrinkled as he looked over to Hancock briefly. He’d forgotten he was there, he’d been so quiet. “People who are born into a settlement with higher caliber food sources, like Diamond City with its multiple quality restaurants, tend to do very poorly adapting to wasteland fare. But wastelanders who’ve been long accustomed to RadBug for protein, tato for their starch staple, and shelf-stable prewar food--they tend to be able to eat anything. I’ve read in medical journals, as well, that cultures with lean diets adjust abominably to high-fat cuisine, and vice versa. You might have been unable to stomach unpreserved foods because you were shocking your system. Which... brings me to the other half of my prognosis.”

“I... just might try it. There’s no tellin’ whether Tom’s shot might’ve complicated the range of what I can stomach.”

“And that’s exactly what I was getting at. I likely couldn’t pry the exact ingredients of the injection from Tom, but I know there’s bacteria cultures in it. Part of what makes the human digestive tract so successful is a symbiosis with key bacteria. Honestly, before you mentioned confidently that you were digesting the things you’ve swallowed, I thought perhaps the issue was that the toxins of what you were ingesting had killed yours off, but now I only feel more confident in theorizing that if you were mutated, so were the bacterial cultures that live in your stomach and intestines. You have adapted to eat the way you’ve been eating, that’s for certain. But whether the bacteria in Tom’s injection will end up competing with those inside you, only time and tests will tell. Antibiotics can be complicated to predict.”

“Does this mean bloodwork?” Geek flinched. He didn’t want to know whether his blood was still neon pink after all this.

“Yes, but to be perfectly fair with you, it’s going to be slow-going. I’ve only got the time at the moment to have this discussion because your dramatic arrival with my prototype has frozen progress in HQ.” Carrington tourniqueted Geek’s upper arm with a length of rubber, and easily found a vein. Steeled for the stick, the pink ghoul readily let the doctor draw four vials. As predicted, the blood nearly looked like hot pink milk. They both reacted poorly to the sight. “Once business resumes as normal, I will only have so much time to scrutinize your exact condition to give you a definitive diagnosis. I’m still not positive you’re not terminal, but this once-over gives me the reassurance to turn you loose to take stock for yourself of how your body reacts to its mutations.”

“...So you’re still tellin’ me I’m on forced leave.”

“You’re not even hired yet!” Carrington massaged his temples with one hand and grunted, then pulled composure into his shoulders, and snapped the rubber off Geek’s arm. The doctor then capped the blood samples to deposit them temporarily into a medical tray nearby. “But yes, I’m not even considering taking you on until you see whether you can function a week from now. I can tell your body’s still eliminating toxins. You’re going to continue sweating, and this sweat is caustic. There’s a good chance you’re going to accumulate further damage.”

“Can’t get much worse,” Geek rasped jokingly, messing with the hair he had left. “Sweat don’t really burn me much, but I seen what it did to that cotton ball. I’ll be careful.”

Carrington handed him his jumpsuit and armor, having gotten to the end of his patience with his impromptu patient. Exhaustion dripped from his dismissal.

“Have a care, will you?”

“Do my best.” Geek didn’t put his coveralls back on just yet, dumping them into Hancock’s objecting lap. He purposely kept hold of one of his shoulder pieces. “Before we leave, though, I gotta talk to Tom.”

Approaching the eccentric from across the room, Geek interrupted Tom scrutinizing something on the terminal on the desk at which he sat. The man mumbled to himself, eyes dull with information.

“Tinker Tom?” he started. Tom jerked up from his train of thought and came to.

“Hm? Oh, it’s you! You really mean it, that you feel better? That’s definitely the first time that’s ever happened with my serum.”

“Yeah,” Geek smiled. “I think so. Sorry to interrupt. I’m about to head out, but I had to do two things first. One, I had to thank you. Your treatment was unorthodox, but I think it was exactly what I needed. And two, Carrington mentioned you’re the quartermaster?”

“No need to thank me,” Tom beamed, slouching back in his desk chair. “And that’s correct. You hittin’ me up for goods? I don’t know what all I can rightly part with, since you’re not a bonafide agent yet, but I’m sure I have something juicy.”

“I ain’t lookin’ for handouts, especially not after how much y’helped me out with my health. I need somethin’ to keep myself occupied while I take this week to recoup. How much leather can y’spare? I’d like to upgrade my armor.”

“Man, me an’ my boys have got better than leather! You should come and see me when you pass the test. I will fix you up.” He sprung up and began digging through the metal shelving that lined the walls of his sprawling corner of the crypt. “What kinda customizing you thinking about in the mean time? Dense plate-layered? Deep-pocketed? Maybe somethin’ pneumatic? I got all kinds of toys. Great stuff to act as a stabilizer layer. A jar a wingnuts, makes great studded armor...”

“I already got all kinds a pockets.” He surreptitiously pulled out several hundred dollar bills where Tom could see the denominations himself, for emphasis. Tom blinked. “You gotta point, though. Mods seem more useful’n addin’ more layers. Got any mods that’d keep my arms an’ legs from... gettin’ broke so easy?”

“--I’ve got just the thing.” He produced a long wooden box after rooting around a bit, dropping it excitedly on the desk. “How does the guts from power armor legs sound? The components are compact enough to incorporate into greaves. This pair just hasn’t gotten used for it yet.”

“It sounds like you’re just about as crazy as I am.” Geek grinned stupidly, eyeing the box and tucking the bills in the bib pocket of Tom’s overalls. “Mmh. Can I part you with two or three tool aprons, too?”

“Oh man, that’s the kinda leather y’wanted? You really are a pocket fiend.”

The two went back and forth spitballing concepts for a while, but Hancock came up to interrupt, arms full of Geek’s things.

“How long am I supposed to sit over here with your purse while you chat up this mad scientist in your underwear?”

Geek took them from him apologetically.

“We can continue this in a week,” Tom insisted, understanding Hancock wanted to leave. He shooed off the two of them pleasantly. “I’ll be schemin’ up something special for ya. Have fun on vacay, my friend.”

“I like somebody that’d spoil you.” Hancock chuffed and patted Geek on the back as they let themselves out the back way. Down the stairs, and through the waterlogged, unpaved patch. “I gotta find a way to spoil ya worse, though.”

“And just what exactly do you call what you n’ me did at the quarry?”

Hancock barked and grinned at him.

“The beginnings of a fine friendship.”

[ahyslpodcast-scoop-blog]

Ep 46- 13 Best Haunted Houses

The 13 Best Haunted Houses in the US in no particular order

Okay, so it’s October. I know you want to get down and dirty in a haunted house, so these are the 13 best Haunted Houses to get freaky in. By freaky I mean very scared and anxious. 

Netherworld- Stone Mountain, Georgia

70,000 square feet of horror. The 2019 themes are “Night of the Gorgon” and “Cold Blooded”. Netherworld has both indoor and outdoor haunted houses, four escape rooms, and fucking laser tag.

It’s famous for the elaborate set designs and props. The set designs and props are so fucking amazing that Zombieland was filmed inside of it and Halloween 2 (Rob Zombie) rented the props from it.

Cast members bungee jump, slide into you and scare the shit out of you. It’s nuts!

Field Of Screams - Mountville, Pennsylvania

Field of screams has MULTIPLE attractions. From haunted hayrides to terrifying mazes, it’s fucking scary!!

“Journey through the dark cornfields, where terrifying creatures live and horrific acts occur. Witness atrocities found only in your worst nightmares and experience the thrill of the walking dead. Experience terror like no other in a journey through the Frightmare Asylum where demented patients lie in wait for their next victim. Hear clown's giggling snarls echo through the halls as you try to escape the madness. Walk through the Den of Darkness, a haunted house that was abandoned many years ago but was never fully vacated by the twisted souls that inhabited it. They remain to terrorize guests and leave them screaming for the door. Even more fear awaits as you trek through the Nocturnal Wasteland desolate forest where few survivors remain. Nocturnal Wasteland provides the most extreme haunted experience as you come face to face with its disturbing inhabitants deep in the middle of the dark woods.” taken from their website

Asylum 49- Tooele, Utah

We talked about this in a previous episode. You know what’s better than a haunted house? A haunted house inside of a haunted asylum. You get touched, separated, and straight up fucked in this haunted house.

Eastern State Penitentiary: Terror Behind The Walls- Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

What’s better than a haunted asylum? A mother fucking abandoned haunted prison. 6 (yes SIX) haunted attractions inside the walls of the Eastern State Penitentiary. From Zombies to mad scientists to classic scares, “Terror Behind The Walls” rips you away from your party and fucks the Halloween right out of you

The 13th Gate- Baton Rouge, LA

13 sections. 40,000 square feet. The 13th gate is designed with blockbuster-level tech so it’s CRAZY. The goal of the 13th gate is to blur the lines of reality so you really feel like you are experiencing a real event. Whether it’s walking into a room covered in insects and snakes, or trapped in a cave, they created each scene to capture you. The acting is top notch, so it really does a great job at mind fucking you.  

Dent Schoolhouse- Cincinnati, Ohio

As you walk in, you hear the tale of a murderous janitor named Charlie, who killed students in the 1940s and 1950s and dumped their bodies in the basement of the schoolhouse. As you walk through the haunted house, you walk through the fucked up mind of the killer Charlie. You see crazy teachers, bodies,  gore, and some catacombs. The really cool part about this haunted house is they have “lights off” nights so all you have is a glow stick to guide you through the house

Haunts into christmas (changes everything to spooky Christmas shit)

Headless Horseman Hayrides and Haunted Houses- Ulster Park, New York

This is a whole fucking Halloween amusement park. There’s restaurants, gift shops, hayrides, corn mazes, 8 haunted houses, and escape rooms. It’s awesome!! This is on 65 acres of haunted land

The haunted houses are famous for their set design, makeup, unique props, and overall spook factor.

Erebus - Pontiac, Michigan

Four story haunt. From their website, “Dr. Colber, a mad scientist obsessed with time travel actually figured out how to make it work! But in doing this, every time he got one of his subjects into another time period, that time period itself looked at them as a virus and wiped them out! Obsessed with trying to make this work, he sent more and more of his employees into the time machine until he ran out of time, money, and subjects… Which brought him to a brilliant idea! Disguise his time machine as a haunted house! Now, he has an endless supply of human guinea pigs to use in his experiment, and better yet… they unknowingly fund the program.”

Erebus has physical obstacles you have to work through (swamps, ball bits, closing walls, etc to escape. It’s not for the faint of heart

Nightmare New England- Litchfield, New Hampshire

80 aces. 6 haunted houses. Rides. Food. Another club. Another club.

Nightmare on 13th- Salt Lake City, Utah

It’s so fucking fun, y’all. 36,000 square feet of pure horror. They change it completely every year, and make it even scarier. Cory and I went through a few times and it’s NUTS. 

The Beast- Kansas City, Missouri

From their website “The Beast Haunted House is one of the greatest haunted attractions in the nation and keeps adding to keep visitors on their toes and scared out of their wits. This immersive nightmare is an open format where visitors lose their way around lurking threats of voodoo, a live alligator, werewolves, phantoms, and monsters. Traverse through a medieval time warp that goes to a time when it was an eye for an eye, the Beast within the man. There are 4 floors where the Beast is clawing to get the next victim before escaping by jumping out a 2-story window or slide 4-stories down. “

Hell’s Gate- Lockport, Illinois

From haunted.com “This dark adventure shuttles you deep into the forest where you must find your way through the torch-lit haunted woods, across the Cemetery of Lost Souls, up the hill and through the gate, to find the front door of the 1920’s Victorian Mansion, Moorstone Manor. Once in the house, you may feel that you have escaped the horde of zombies from the cemetery and forest, but your challenge has just begun. The house itself is alive with darkness and The Twins are searching for new hosts for their demon kind. You will need to find the secret passages in each room to escape the ever-pressing Darkness and make your way to the attic. After reaching the top of the house, you must ride the slide into the basement, find your way through a zombie-infested laboratory and attempt your escape through the Dragon Caves. The Gate itself is hidden in the caves below the house and from it the Darkness enters our world. Guarded by three dragons, the caves are vast and difficult to navigate. However, if you make it through the entire house and you can find the Key to HellsGate... Your ticket is free! This is not just a haunted house, it’s an adventure!”

Mckamey Manor- San Diego, California 

This is the most famous “Survival” Haunted House. You start off by getting abducted and taken to the McKamey Manor in San Diego, Ca. Then you get tortured.  People are covered in spiders, bees, snakes, cockroaches, blood, etc. They are slapped, cut, tied up, gagged, waterboarded, etc. There is no safeword. You have to beg the actor to let you go. They can hold you up to 10 hours and each experience is tailored to the person’s fears. Only a few people are even allowed per day and the waitlist is CRAZY (24,000 people). Want to go? Here are the requirements.

You have to meet multiple requirements before entering

 21 and above, or 18-20 with parents approval.

Completed "Sports Physical" and  Doctor's letter stating you are physically and  mentally cleared.

Pass a background check provided by MM.

Be screened via FB facetime or phone.

Proof of medical insurance.

Sign a detailed 40-page waiver.

Pass a portable drug test on the day of the show.

Have fun!

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

The summertime of our lives, 3/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 3/?.

Pairings: Ninetoo x Rose.

A/N: Written for @doctorroseprompts summer bingo. Five summer-themed words: Sunset, Laugh, Game, Fruit, Swim (BINGO!). Tagging @thebookster on her demand.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” - William Shakespeare.

CHAPTER 3:

The Doctor was astonished. He hadn’t seen that one coming and even if he had seen it coming, he would still had been left speechless. This day hadn’t been a good one in his book. It had begun smoothly with that surprise and the talk he had had with Rose, but then, he had been arrested by Alec Hardy, almost ended up in a hospital and learnt more about Rose in five minutes than he had in months. She had driven him home, forced him do drink more – he was glad that she had a go at Alec for leaving him locked in that overheated cell. The only thing he wanted to know was what was the surprise she had in store for him. He wasn’t patient, nor was he used to be the one left to ponder. Rose Tyler had been one of his best companions and she obviously had learnt some tricks from him. He hated the fact that it was used against him.

He never thought he would see one those things ever again in his shorten life. He thought he had destroyed them all. This universe wasn’t supposed to have this kind of technology either. There were aliens but they didn’t have time travel or dimension travel technologies. Because the dimension canon built by Torchwood obviously. So when Rose had pulled out this wrist device similar to the one Jack was wearing when they met that night. She had just given him a cheeky smile before fastening it around her arm. She hooked her other arm around his and dialled on the small keyboard. He had known what would happen; had known that he would feel disoriented and nauseous, that he would stumble and maybe fall. This device wasn’t protecting the user. It was just teleporting them from point A to point B. The TARDIS at least was keeping them safe when they were travelling. Another reason that made him miss his precious ship. What he wouldn’t give to have it back! But that was impossible.

He was dizzy, lost his balance and fell on all four. Rose only stumbled. She chuckled and held a hand out to him to help him up but his eyes were stuck on the scene before him. She could see the shock on his face, the disbelief, the feeling of hallucinating and it was amusing her. Before, it was the expression she was wearing when he was showing her something out of her comfortable little world. It was funny to see the parts reversed this time again.

“Where are we?”

His voice was barely more than a murmur. He forced himself to his feet, his eyes still on the object of his wonder. The surroundings were dark, cold and this thing was shining like the sun and calling for him. He didn’t move. He was hypnotized by the beauty of the scene but his reason was telling him that it couldn’t be true.

“Somewhere on Earth, somewhen in time. This seemed like the safest place at the moment. It still is true.”

“You could have built it at home. I would have loved it.”

“I didn’t build this. I’m not clever enough…”

“You are more than clever.”

“Not enough to build a TARDIS.”

What he had before his eyes indeed was a growing type 40 TARDIS. Identical to the one he had stolen thousands years ago. Sure the police box shape had become his favourite but having a real TARDIS? That was unexpected, astonishing. He had a hard time believing it.

“That can’t be possible. How would you… It would take a thousand years or more. I t can’t…”

“There was a coral strut with the sonic. And a letter. I followed the instructions after finding this place. I couldn’t do it at home, couldn’t let Torchwood know about it.”

“You don’t trust them much.”

He didn’t trust them either, but he had his own personal reasons to. Her own father was the head of the company specialised in alien technologies. She had worked with them. Something must have happened before he arrived for her to be so distrustful of Torchwood.

“I can’t trust them, nor any of what they do. I don’t like the way they work. It’s… wrong.”

“What do they do?”

She didn’t answer, turned her head away. She didn’t want him to read on her face. He was very good at that and she preferred keeping those secrets for herself. He was no man to accept this though. He got closer to her, grabbed her hand, intertwined their fingers. She was tensed and he was curious. He needed to know why she was acting like this, why she was doing things secretly.

“Tell me.”

His voice was softer, he brought her closer. She could trust him. She could always trust him. He wouldn’t betray her, would do anything to protect her. He had learnt a long time ago that Rose was no damsel in distress, no damsel to save. She could do that herself. However, she also had a deep vulnerability she was keeping hidden under a tough shield. Only him could see through. He had been her confident before and she had been deprived from him for years, had had to stay there without an ally or almost. And now he was back by her side and could see all the cracks in her shield. It was up to him to fix them all.

“It wasn’t something planned.” She swallowed, squeezed his hand, kept her eyes on the TARDIS. “In the first few months, we spent our time together to get to know each other better. Then we said goodbye and mom told Pete about how I sacrificed myself to save your life. She didn’t know much about the TARDIS, about the Vortex and all but Pete had done his researches.”

Her voice broke, he brought her closer to him, wrapped her in a protective embrace. She was trembling but not crying. Even there, in an unknown place and time, she was holding on. She was resisting. Hiding her feelings. Hesitating. Just like this day on the cliff. Alec had prevented her from jumping; the Doctor would have told her that if she was jumping, he would jump too. That was just how he was. Brave, stupidly brave for her.

“What has he done to you?”

Anger boiled in his veins. She could almost feel it when she put her head on his chest. She should be scared of such a fury. She really should be. He was the Oncoming Storm, the man standing as an obstacle in front of every threat without fear. Or seemingly without fear. He was mad at himself, at the universe, at the Time Lords. But we would do anything to keep her safe. Human or Time Lord, it didn’t matter. If his Rose was or had been hurt, he would unleash his rage. He would become the Oncoming Storm again.

“Rose.”

He slipped two fingers under her trembling chin and made her look up at him. His heard ached at the sight of so much pain and despair swirling in her amber brown eyes. Fear too, the fear of seeing so much anger in his eyes. He softened. He didn’t want to scare her. He just wanted to help.

“Since he met us the first time, Pete has done a lot of researches. I don’t know how but he found out that I absorbed the Time Vortex, that I was Bad Wolf. They took me by surprise. Drugged my morning tea. When I woke up, I was in a sort of glass coffin and they… they were testing me.”

All his body tensed at that tale. Her own family had betrayed her, thrown her into a complex situation she was alone to deal with. They had turned her into a Guinea pig, run tests on her, probably used her against her will and no one had raised a finger to help her.

“Does your mum know about this?”

Rose shook her head, “I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I’ve never seen her this happy back in our world… I don’t want to ruin this.”

For a reason he wouldn’t be able to explain, the Doctor understood. He had been in Rose’s past many times – always made sure to never intervene and change anything, except for that red bicycle for her twelfth Christmas – had been in Jackie’s past as well and her attachment to Pete Tyler was something he thought he would never experience. The woman had been destroyed by his death despite their up and down relationship and had focused entirely on giving Rose a better life than hers… But Pete was back – another version of him for that mattered – and Rose was an adult who could handle herself. And their so strong bond had slowly faded. A sad story.

“How did you get out?”

Coming from Rose, he expected something impressive and clever but his reason was telling him otherwise. She remembered so they obviously hadn’t erased her memory or they had done it very badly. Could it be that they just…?

“They let me go. Who would have believed me anyway?”

Who would have listened to her in the first place? She had no friends back then, no one to speak to. Pete had her figured out in very little time. He had guessed she wouldn’t speak to her mother, no matter how close they still were back then. It really infuriated the Doctor. How could he have been so wrong on someone? Had he just wanted to see what he wanted to see for his Rose? How would she have survived if this human self of the man she loved hadn’t been created?

“But the worse is that they found something.”

His body tensed. Rose sniffled and wiped her nose with her hand. Her eyes were red but dry. She kept her voice steady as she explained to him that becoming the Bad Wolf hadn’t been without consequences. He had acted in time and saved her but the energy had corrupted a part of her. She was still human but an improved human: better senses, an ability for telepathic communications, a formidable gift for healing physical wound, an extraordinary awareness to the time passing. Nothing really out of the ordinary but Torchwood knew about it. They could use it to force her into doing stuff for them and who knew what else. He didn’t ask questions and she didn’t add more to the story. He didn’t want to know more. Not yet. Not if she wasn’t ready. It was enough for now.

He teleported them back home. The sun was slowly setting, drowning its burning rays in the quiet sea. The air was fresher than earlier, more pleasurable. They settled down on the chairs outside the house with the picnic they were supposed to eat earlier on the yacht. The Doctor would say that it was cliché but it was quite romantic, in the modern sense of the term. Their mood was cheerier as they shared sandwiches and beers while watching the sun disappearing.

“I could get used to that.”

“Hm?”

“Spending evenings with you like this, just the two of us. Having a normal life.”

It had been silently decided that they wouldn’t talk about the TARDIS when they were out of the safety bubble that Rose had found to be sure the ship would grow peacefully until it reached maturity. In a couple months, they would be back where they really belonged. In the meanwhile, they would build their perfect little life together on Earth. Like normal people.

The sun was now long gone and they were still outside their rented house. Rose was uncontrollably laughing about him fighting the mosquitos and butterflies – “of all the things that could have disappeared, those freaking blood suckers have decided to stay and be the summer destroyers in every existing parallel world!” – and she found it heartily funny to watch him slap the night warm air in an incredibly stupid and yet sexy dance. Nothing could be funnier than this at the moment. She was on her fourth beer though. You would think that someone whose DNA had been improved by the Time Vortex would handle alcohol better. He was only slightly tipsy and grinning at her because there was nothing better than observing a happy Rose.

“We should play a game!”

She put the bottle down and her face showed that she was exulting. What did she have in mind that could cause such a burst of joy? She made the bottle spin several times until the neck ended its course in his direction with a mischievous smile on her face. He raised an eyebrow, getting really curious now.

“Truth or dare?”

“You’re not man enough for that, Tyler,” he laughed.

“You ready to bet on that, Doctor?”

He liked the expression of challenge on her face. That was triggering something in him. He drank the rest of his beer in one go and placed the empty bottle with the two others on his right. He looked at Rose in the eyes. She held his gaze, wasn’t gonna avoid this intense blue staring.

“Dare.”

He was playful. She wanted to play, he was gonna play. All night if that was what she wanted. He was ready for the challenge and she appeared to be too. He expected her to suddenly fall asleep once the alcohol and laughing and fatigue of the day would get to her but she was remaining wide awake despite the passing hours. No more alcohol for their the pack they had drunk. More and they would see Shitface coming to them and lock them in a tiny cell. An experience the Doctor wasn’t ready to live again. He had been in that situation too many times before.

“If you were given the chance, would you go back with him?”

She had picked truth and he had pronounced the question that had been haunting his mind. One of them at least. His heart was racing; he wasn’t sure he would hear the answer. Did he want an answer at all? According to the face Rose was making now, he probably wouldn’t even have that answer. Her smile was gone, the redness on her cheeks was due to the alcohol. She looked away, played with her fingers. He shouldn’t have asked that.

“I would go back to my original universe without hesitation.”

“So you’d go to him.”

He wasn’t disappointed. He had expected the answer. He had dreaded that answer. It was his turn to look away. The harm was done, the joy was gone. He traced the seams of his jeans. He couldn’t tell if he was sad or else. He was being realistic. She loved him but she loved the true Doctor more. It would be the pretty boy. It would always be the pretty boy.

“He has left me behind. More times than I can count, in more ways than I can tell.” She looked back at him. “You would never even think of leaving my side. Well, the Doctor who wore your face always came to find me if I was wandering around.”

“And you were wandering around all the time.”

“Curious, me.”

“I love that about you. You’re curious, you want to learn, you’re not afraid to make a stand for what is right.”

“I’ve had a good teacher.”

“Not the best. I was fresh out of the Time War. Deeply wounded. I was trying to fix my mistakes but I also needed you to understand how I felt.”

“Hence the end of my world.”

“That was stupid.”

“But I understood. And I promised myself to never leave you.”

She held a hand out to him. He hesitated for a moment, just staring at her hand. Was it just an offer for peace or the beginning of an answer that would please him more? She noticed the time it was taking him to take a proper decision. It hurt but it was her words that had caused this. His now human heart must be aching.

“I don’t know why but… even if you were born from his hand, from his energy, the fact that you are wearing this face, the face you had when we first met, my mind is convinced that you’re just the same.”

“Part of me is. It came back with the face. When I… When I regenerated that day, I wanted to be better for you. Younger, cheerier, more open on my feelings. Guess I was wrong.”

“It was fun. At first. And then, I noticed little things. And Torchwood happened.”

“You came back.”

“The worlds were in danger.”

“We would all have been screwed without you. Was too busy having fun, me.”

“That’s it. Carelessly having fun, always wanting to impress your companions.”

“Donna was hard work.”

This was supposed to be a joke but remembering Donna was also an open door to remember that she would never recall any of this. Rose didn’t know but before the walls separating the parallel worlds definitely closed, he was still sharing a bond with the pretty boy, with the TARDIS, with Donna Noble and he had seen her mind being deprived from the best memories of her life, of her self-confidence. The Doctor Donna died to save the human Donna. Without her, he wouldn’t be here and she would never remember him or Rose or any of her adventures. He would remember it all for her.

“But she was… how were you saying back then? Oh, fantastic.”

He grinned, “She really is brilliant. How lucky are you to be stuck with a man who’s got half of her personality?”

“That is quite interesting at times. Especially when you’re cross and use that accent of hers.”

She chuckled. Here, in this universe, they couldn’t make a difference between one accent or another. What was a Northern England accent for them is actually a south Australian accent. So, the mix of Northern Gallifreyen and Chiswick accents was curious to them. They had never heard it before. They considered the Doctor as an alien, which was funny for her since he was partly alien.

“I wonder if there is a Donna Noble in this universe.”

“I’ve made my researches. There was one. She was an old lady. She sadly passed away before you came here. She was a fantastic storyteller and narrator.”

“What her stories were about?”

“You would be surprised.”

“Oh, come on.”

“She was writing about a mad man in a blue box travelling the universe and fixing what needed to be fixed.”

“Could it be that a version of her never made it back in time? No… That wouldn’t work. This world wouldn’t exist anymore. Earth would be gone. It has to be something else.”

“It’s another one of those mysteries you love so much and listen to this: her daughter said that just before she passed away, she has received the visit of a young blonde woman with a long white and blue coat who was calling herself the Doctor. She told Donna that all her stories were true and she thanked her for sharing these adventures, for sharing the hope to the younger ones.”

“That can’t be possible.”

“Why not?”

“Gallifrey doesn’t exist no more. Only Time Lords were enabling and controlling the access to parallel worlds. And I’ve never been a woman before. The Doctor has always been a male.”

“I wouldn’t mind meeting a female Doctor.”

“I have to admit that it would be a nice change but…

“I’d love you no matter the age, the face or the gender.”

This time, he took her hand and intertwined their fingers. He wasn’t totally convinced that she wouldn’t go back to the other Doctor if she was given the chance to. Their talk had strayed on subjects close to his question but not enough to give him a proper answer.

“But I’ll always have a preference for the Doctor with blue eyes, the first face he showed to me.”

“Which technically was the pretty boy’s face on January, 1st 2005.”

“I haven’t seen much of this face. You stayed in the shadows to be sure I wouldn’t. So you technically were the first one I’ve met.”

“And I’m fine with that idea.”

He gave her one of his daft full grin and got up from the chair. He disappeared in the house for a couple minutes and came back with the basket of fresh fruits. She watched him as he picked a mature banana and peeled it off. She burst out laughing when he took a first bite and immediately made a face of profound disgust before coughing out the bit of fruit that had dared sullying his superior taste buds.

“What the hell is that?”

“You haven’t let me the time to tell you: in this part of the country, they are specialised in peer-flavoured bananas. You can’t find any ‘normal’ bananas.”

“But that’s criminal!” he snarled.

“That’s a banana. It just has a different taste.”

“I hate peers!”

“I thought every Doctor has their personal likes and dislikes.”

“The hate for peers is common to all my incarnations, past and future.”

“So you won’t give it a chance.”

“I’d rather jump in that dirty water than eat this freak of nature!”

“Go on.”

“What?”

Rose pointed to the water they were sitting by and she reiterated her challenge. After all, that was all the game they were playing before the atmosphere became more serious. She had said truth, he had suggested the dare. If he wasn’t accepting now, she was winning, and he would never let her win so easily so he just stepped over the edge of the quay and jumped in the water. She gasped. Her alcohol must have been worse than she thought if she had believed he wouldn’t do it. He was the Doctor. He was proud. If you were daring him to do something, he would do it.

“How is the water?”

The Doctor resurfaced, rubbed his face and smiled at Rose. A happy idiot, she thought as he was splashing around, fully clothed. Whether the water was warm or cold, it wasn’t bothering him at all. The fact was he wasn’t wearing bathing trunks either. Thinking about it, she never saw him fully naked. He was always wearing pants and a T-shirt, even around her. She never forced him to. He was uncertain about his body. That was something she had gone through when she was younger, when she became a woman. But what could he have to hide? She could only fantasize about his body and respect his decision. He would do the same for her. She got a nice overview when he swam back to the edge and hauled himself over of the water to the only strength of his arms. It gave her an idea, and the smirk on her face didn’t mean anything good for him…

A suivre

The summertime of our lives © | 2019 | Tous droits réservés.

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AO3 ||TS.

[adriennefrank]

of healing and hurt

My mind has been hijacked by an email from my doctor. 

I'm embarrassed that I hadn't posed the question to her before now.  It references 2015, more than two years ago.  But I suppose the question took two years to form, from the depths to the heights of my cancer experience.  And over the past couple weeks, it has been rolling around in my head, begging for an answer that I couldn't scrap together.  Something didn't make sense.

In 2015, my surgeon removed malignant cells from my soft palate, but he wasn't able to get them all.  Positive margins, they call it.  Positive that there were cancer cells left behind.  Positive that they would continue to spread and grow.  Negative for me.

In my decade of fighting cancer, I've always been told my these oncologists with more knowledge than I will ever have that chemotherapy cannot "kill" my type of cancer.  It can merely slow it down.  I often forget that other cancer cells are different.  Some can be eradicated by toxic chemicals dripped into veins.  So, often when I tell my story, I forget to mention the weight of the surgeons telling me that they can't rid me of cancer.  I forget to accurately describe the death sentence when I was told several times that chemotherapy was my only option.  I'm not sure why I skim over that enormous detail.

After the surgery in April of 2015 I began chemotherapy, certain of my looming decline.  We had run out of curative options.  I had run out of hope.  

I lost my hair, a lot of muscle, and almost all of my energy.  Friends came around me and raised money for me to make memories with my then four year-old son.  In between my infusions, we began to take trips.  First to Traverse City and Mackinac Island in Michigan.  I wanted to show my boy where I worked for a summer, a challenge I gave myself, to see if I might survive as a camp counselor. A challenge that made me stronger and added dimension to my life.  Next, we traveled to the Greek island of Crete, a first international destination for both of us.  We soaked in the beauty, kindness, and charisma we found there.  The next month found us in Orlando, a pilgrimage to Walt and his characters, a rite of passage for every child, one that I needed to be present for.  From the infusion chair to the roller coaster seat.  And truly what a roller coaster this time was.  Thanksgiving was spent in sunny Savannah with a dear friend and her family.  We spotted alligators, played baseball in the back yard, and I dreamed of spending next Thanksgiving in New York City at the famous parade.

It was less than a month after we returned from Georgia that I found the two small, hard bumps in my neck.  I reached out to my surgeon who recommended they be biopsied right away.  I knew even before receiving the biopsy results that this was Not Good.  It was the first time I believed I would be facing my last Christmas.  I took picture after picture with my boy on that special morning, wanting him to remember me, recall my voice, recognize my mannerisms that he has inherited.

It's odd to prepare to die.  Thoughts you've never had before begin to fill your head.  Who will care for my child?  What will become of the home we've known?  How will he adapt?  My therapist earned every cent from me during that time.  I was empty.

When I returned back to MN after Christmas, I enrolled in a clinical trial.  Small details about us guinea pigs and the drug made me hopeful.  My tumor was different than the other seven people enrolled.  No one said the words, but doctors alluded to the idea that I might be more likely to respond.  One by one the other hopefuls dropped out of the trial.  Their tumors weren't responding to the experimental drug.  The cancer was growing instead of dying.  By April I was the last one left.

This was it!  Healing.  I recalled hearing that one in eight patients responded to the drug, and hadn't there been eight of us to start?  I clung tightly to the promise that I was the one.

Only weeks later my doctor felt the bumps in my neck, and spoke the words aloud, "They feel a bit bigger."  

I'm amazed that she was able to tell that after it had been weeks since previously examining my neck.  How did I not realize it first?  Was it because I had felt them every day, similar to the frog in the warming pot?  I hadn't noticed the slight changes that were slowly killing me?

And down again on the roller coaster.  Fast.  Forcing the air from my lungs.  Stomach in my chest cavity, leaving little room for my heart.  Months of tears, surgery on my neck, chemotherapy, and radiation.  Taking my body to the precipice of death.

Until slowly, so very slowly, I've crawled back.  My body is healing.  The God that I've raged against for the past four years is healing me.

So, recently, I've put some pieces together.  There was cancer left in my body in 2015.  Chemotherapy couldn't kill it.  I never had another surgery, or any other treatment for that matter, on my soft palate.  What had happened?  It didn't add up.

My doctor wrote back with words that made my heart beat fast.  And even now, as I check the Fitbit on my wrist, it is still pounding.  At least 25 bpm faster than my normal resting heart rate.

"You have not misunderstood anything and I have wrestled with this same question ever since we met.  To be honest I would have thought that we would have seen a recurrence in the palate based on your history, but we have not seen any evidence of that to date," she wrote.

When the cancer cells spread to my lymph nodes, they grew quite slowly at first, but then they took off, growing exponentially in the few weeks before my surgery.  We believe these cells originated in my soft palate, so they all should behave the same way.  However, there has been no recurrence in my soft palate.

I hate to write the words out of fear of jinxing myself.  But how can this be explained?  It cannot.  Medical science can throw out some theories, but there are no definitive answers.  

It's truly miraculous.  The work of God's hand.  Healing by the omnipotent Healer.

*******

Yesterday at church, the pastor spoke about Jesus healing the man who was disabled.  He described a conversation he had with a spiritual mentor, about how neither had seen physical evidence of God (I might be butchering his exact words, so please excuse me if I am.  These are the words that I understood).  I believe they were referring to a miracle that only could be attributed to God.

I had chills.

I have.

I have experienced the healing like the invalid at the pool.  Healing that can only point to God's hand.  There is no other way to explain it..

I left the service feeling like I had received a beautiful gift, a diamond or pearl, beauty borne out of the deepest pain.

And yet, if the cancer returns, I will once again be furious with the God who claims to love me.  Who claims to love Cedar.  I wish my faith wasn't so fickle, but it is.

I'm grateful that my doctor didn't try to bullshit me with an answer of why this happened.  It gave a tiny opening for my diminishing faith to fill in the gaps.  I don't know why God has allowed this life for me.  Why didn't he choose someone with stronger faith?  A person that wouldn't question or get angry at him or feel abandoned by him?  Didn't he realize my hope didn't grasp tightly enough?

So, I will live in this moment of grace.  Of the miraculous.  Of deep love. Of at least six months I thought I wouldn't see with my boy.  A gift.

[jaeminlore]

What Love Is // Kim Namjoon

-

the prompt: can I request a rap monster au based off of the song iRobot by Jon Bellion? Where maybe you and him are both robots trying to become human again?

words: 1279

category: sci-fi + song rec

author note: i actually fell in love with this song when i listened to it and it does seem to make one think of namjoon. this isn’t so much of a romance scenario as a thriller(?) scenario but i worked hard on it and i rlly like it. hope you do too.

- destinee

-

Namjoon was only a college student when they took him.

He used to be happy. Well, almost happy as the world constantly reminded him of his fate. He was a philosopher in the making, and his favorite thing to do was question the world around him.

Now he had to question himself.

He didn’t know if he was human, anymore than he knew if he was alive or dead. His entire soul, body, and mind felt numb after the hours of poking and prodding, pushing and pulling.

It wasn’t until a week later, when they allowed him to roam the lab, did he finally understand.

You were the other test subject. They had taken your body and used blue fire to weld robot parts to your fragile skin. As grotesque as it seemed, Namjoon still found solace in seeing some type of human skin, even if it was charred and broken.

Namjoon and you stared at each other from across the room. Your eyes roamed his body, searching for any patch of skin that didn’t seem synthetic. Namjoon was the twelfth one they had brought to you.

They were testing new technologies on humans, turning them into test robots rather than simple guinea pigs.

If was a new, life-giving technology they wanted to test. They wanted to play God and turn humans immortal.

So far, you were the longest running experiment, sourcing without many necessary organs to live. The constant clank of gears going off inside of your body was just another alarm that said you could be dead any time it decided to fail.

This new boy, you watched him, hoping he passed the test. If he did, he might live just a bit longer.

He might make it, unlike the rest of the subjects.

-

Namjoon was asked a series of questions, to which he replied smartly to, knowing each and every answer. The last one got him, however.

“Do you know what love is?”

Of course, Namjoon wanted to reply. Instead, he felt no beating where his heart should be. He felt no emotion when he thought about his friends back home or his family.

He blinked and answered the machine. “No.”

His reply was slow, automated. One syllable that sealed his fate forever.

He truly felt like a robot now, if he could even feel anything at all.

-

He used to be so filled with passion and fire that no one could tell him what to do. No one could tell him to sit down and stop being loud in class. No one could tell him that his efforts for a better world were useless.

But that’s all he felt, sitting in the lab. He had spent all his life trying not to become a useless robot of society, but that’s exactly where he ended up. Only this time, it was literal.

It was physical and he could not feel anything.

The only thoughts left in his head, he had no power to convey. He had no will to fight. They had taken that along with his heart.

Everything was numb. There were no thoughts of ever getting out or ever becoming human again.

Namjoon simply obeyed the sadistic scientists no matter what they told him to do.

He wasn’t even there anymore. 
-

Namjoon was your way out. He was your ticket to freedom, if only he took the chance.

Whatever experiment they had done to him, it seemed to take more away from him that yours did to you.

You and Namjoon stood side by side, in the middle of the night, recharging.

“Namjoon,” you whispered. “What is love?”

The question provoked strange pricks of fire in the boy’s belly. He could clearly see love in his brain. His mother holding him for the first time, his father teaching him how to play ball, the first time he won a rap battle.

Thoughts and emotions filled his head, except there was no way to transfer them to his heart. It was as if they took a metal plate and blocked off the true, emotional heart from any contact with the rest of the body.

“I knew what love was,” Namjoon answered, his fingers twitching angrily at the men who kidnapped him and took him here.

You were breaking his walls, and you knew it, “Don’t you want to know again?”

-

That was all it took. Soon, Namjoon and you had broken into the science lab.

“We have to get this stuff off of us. We need to be fully human again.”

“How?” Namjoon asked, tugging at his own metal armor.

“With me.” A man came into the room. “I’m Seokjin. I can perform the surgery, but it will have to be quick, so there will be many risks.”

“I don’t care,” you said, climbing onto the hospital bed. “If I die, I want to die as myself, not as who they made us to be.”

It took a good five hours for Seokjin to replace all of your organs and sew you up.

For Namjoon, who underwent a different experiment, where they simply blocked his emotions using magnets, the surgery consisted of very little.

Only one plate had to be taken out of his skin; one plate above his heart.

Both Namjoon and you lay there unconscious and in nothing but undergarments. The skin of your bodies was torn and fleshly to look at. It was a horrible sight, but it was much better than a robot body.

Seokjin knew, as a doctor, that the two of you needed rest and proper care, so he took matters into his own hands.

Quietly and carefully in the dead of morning, he carried you up to the company’s helicopter. Then, he snuck back down and did the same to Namjoon.

He flew the chopper a ways away from the secluded lab, dodging bullets as they were shot at the carrier.

He took the two patients to his secluded vacation home, where no one knew of the location save him and his family.

Then, knowing he would have to get rid of the evidence, he left the couple there and flew away to dispose of the expensive helicopter.

-

You woke up two days later, and IV drip attached to your wrist.

You squinted and looked around the room to see warm shades of brown and pink in contrast to what you expected: sterile blue and white.

Did your plan really succeed?

You pulled out the IV drip and carefully made your way out of the strange bedroom.

Did Namjoon make it, too?

Your question was answered when you entered the living room to see the boy you had only known for a few weeks, standing and watching the news.

“Bodies of eleven missing teens have been identified. There are two people still missing, said to be alive and protected by the witness who called the CIA this morning. He is in jail for being a part in the experiments, however he will not receive the death sentence. The two missing persons are Kim Namjoon and Y/n L/n. Here are their pictures. If you see them, please tell them their family wants them to come back home.“

You sniffled. Namjoon turned around to see you. The both of you were dressed in sweatpants and a clean white shirt, probably thanks to Seokjin.

“So it’s all over?” You cried in relief, wiping your tears from your eyes.

Namjoon hugged you, rocking you back and forth. “It’s all over, Y/n. Everything it over.”

“We’re human? We know what love is?”

“We’re human,” Namjoon assured you, kissing your hair in a comforting way. “We know what love is.”

~the end~

[lainetar]

Osomatsu-san "horror" game

This is a “horror” game idea I came up with during the Haunted House event in Hesokuri Wars. It’s been a while, I know, but I’m a lazy writer. Please don’t take this too serously.

In this “game” the sextuplets are different ages, so they’re simply siblings.

Blood and gore warning.

The Fujio Hospital was a small one that used to operate at the edge of the Akatsuka ward. However, six years ago a horrible accident happened, killing all the patients and doctors. No one is sure what it was, though the police think it might’ve been a terrorist attack. Ever since then the building has been abandoned, since it was going out of business anyway.

You arrive at the hospital with your friends. It’s late and you’re planning on doing a test of courage. As your friends go in you’re stopped by a young, sickly looking girl who begs you to turn around and leave. However, you’re stupid and ignore the warning. You step in, the door locks behind you and you’re immediately attacked by the ghosts of the patients and staff-members of the hospital.

You realise that you’re majorly screwed.

1st stage: First floor, Osoko

The first major threat you meet is the late nurse Matsuno Osoko. She’s the oldest of the six siblings whose energies keep the lost souls trapped in the hospital. She worked as a personal nurse for doctor Tougou who was in charge of Osoko’s little sister Todoko’s treatment. She started to question the doctor’s methods, especially when Todoko didn’t seem to be getting better. Osoko also refused all of Tougou’s advances. Fearing that she might cause him problems, Tougou drowned her in one of the hospital’s baths.

Threat: She stalks you throughout the first floor of the hospital, trying to drag you into one of the bathrooms and drown you. She can be momentarily distracted with a porn mag (Osoko liked women when she was alive). To make her rest in peace, you need to locate a newspaper that includes the list of casualties from six years ago. Doctor Tougou’s name is among them. Realising he’s finally dead, she’ll move on.

2nd stage: Basement, Karamatsu

After surviving Osoko you find yourself falling through the weak hospital floor and into the basement. Here you’ll meet the second threat, first son of the Matsuno family, Matsuno Karamatsu. After Osoko disappeared he came to the hospital to question Tougou. Fearing that he might get caught Tougou showed Karamatsu’s head into the hospital’s boiler.

Threat: Karamatsu’s face has been burned off but he doesn’t seem to realise this. When he was alive Karamatsu was a real thespian and he tries to cut your face off in order to add to his collection of masks he uses for his “plays”. He can be distracted with any kind of mirror ( he’s a narcist). To make him rest in peace, you need to show him a video of Tougou killing Osoko. After finding out the truth about his sister’s disappearance Karamatsu’ll move on.

3rd stage: Children’s ward, Choromatsu

Climbing out of the basement you find yourself at the children’s ward. This is where Todoko was hospitalised during her treatment. The third threat you’ll face is Matsuno Choromatsu, the second son of the Matsuno family. You’ll soon notice his hideous clown make-up. This is because when he was alive Choromatsu often tried to cheer up his sick little sister. When his big sister and big brother disappeared Choromatsu was the next one to question Tougou - and the doctor’s third victim. He was suffocated with medical gas.

Threat: You can often hear when Choromatsu is near-by - he lets out this wheezing cackle. If he catches you he’ll try to stuff balloon animals down your throat. When he was alive he was an idol otaku, so keep throwing Nyaa-chan stuff at him in order to slow him down (however, this stuff is hard to come by in a hospital so consider when to use them and when not). To make him rest in peace you have to locate part of Todoko’s diary where she expresses gratitude for her brother for trying to cheer her up (though the whole clown-thing was just awful). Knowing that his efforts were appreciated he’ll move on.

4th stage: Surgery ward, Ichimatsu

From the children’s ward it’s straight to the surgery ward. Here you’ll meet the third son - Matsuno Ichimatsu. He worked as a surgeon at the Fujio hospital, secretly keeping an eye on his little sister. He was aware of Tougou’s unethical treatments but only voiced his opinion when his family started to be affected. Instead of immediately killing him, Tougou trapped Ichimatsu and performed experimental treatments on him which ultimately ended up taking Ichimatsu’s life.

Threat: Since Ichimatsu’s body is strapped he moves much slower than his siblings. However, he makes up for it with the multitude of sharp objects implented into his body. If he catches you, you’re dead, you can’t fight against him. He won’t fool around with you like the others before cutting you up. You can distract him by running to one of the stray cats that have made the hospital their home (they don’t care about the human ghosts). Ichimatsu will try to cuddle them, without much success. To make him rest in peace you need Tougo’s notes about the experiments he performed on Ichimatsu. Now that he’s able to undo the process and return his body to normal, Ichimatsu’ll move on.

5th stage: Upper floor, Jyushimatsu

Matsuno Jyushimatsu is a special case in the Matsuno family whom you’ll meet at the upper floors of the hospital. He’s the youngest son and the second youngest child. Since Todoko was his only younger sibling, Jyushimatsu was very attached to her. Todoko becoming sick was a huge shock for Jyushimatsu, who naturally had no idea how to help her. When their older siblings started to disappear one after another, Jyushimatsu became agitated and started to spend more and more time with Todoko. Seeing him as a hindrance for his experiments, Tougou decided to get rid of Jyushimatsu. However, being unnaturally strong Jyushimatsu was able to put up quite a fight against the older man. After finally succeeding in killing Jyushimatsu, Tougou beheaded his body out of sheer frustration.

Threat: You’ll actually see Jyushimatsu through out the hospital but he’ll only take notice of you much later on. He appears as a huge, disembodied head that usually blocks the corridors or stairs making it much harder for you to press on. When he finally starts coming after you, he’ll lunge at you trying to swallow you whole. Because of the narrow corridors dodging him is a challenge. Since Jyushimatsu is a special case he won’t be easily distracted. You can try using the baseball cards you collected back at the children’s ward, but there’s a 50/50 chance he’ll ignore them and chase after you. To make Jyushimatsu rest in peace you need to locate his headless body. Once he’s whole again and able to rejoin his siblings Jyushimatsu’ll move on.

6th stage: Rooftop, Todoko

You finally reach the rooftop of the hospital and there you’ll meet a familiar figure; the girl who warned you not to go in the hospital. You’ve probably already figured out that she’s Matsuno Todoko, the youngest of the six Matsuno siblings. She was quite a cheerful little girl until she caught an unknown disease and was hospitalised at the Fujio hospital under the care of doctor Tougou. However, instead of treating her Tougou used this child of a poor family as a guinea pig for different drugs, pocketing the money he got from the drug companies. Todoko got worse and worse and the constant drugging started to affect her mind. When her siblings stopped to come see her, she thought she’d been abandoned. Sad, angry and in pain Todoko’s psychic abilities (enhanced by the drugs) awakened and she killed everyone in the hospital, trapping their souls in the building so no one would ever leave her again. Among those who died was doctor Tougou.

Threat: Todoko’s powers actually need recharging every now and then, aka she needs fresh victims. She’s actually able to affect the outside world somewhat, putting out rumors and dares that lure idiots to the hospital. She also uses reverse psychology to get people to enter the building even if they start to chicken out. She knew you’d want to enter if she told you not to. Once she’s got her claws on you, she won’t let go until you’re dead. You’ll simply need to tough it out until the other Matsuno siblings, one by one, have appeared to reassure Todoko that they didn’t abandon her. Finally realising that she’s not alone, Todoko’ll move on and the curse will lift…

**Final stage: Tougou**

…or not. The siblings want their revenge against the one man who ruined their lives. It’s time to hunt down doctor Tougou and let the bastard have what’s coming to him. It won’t be easy, though. Tougou’s soul has been feeding on the lost and suffering souls for six years and his grudge and hatred have grown strong. You need to fight all his six forms before the siblings are able to drag him to the afterlife. What they’re going to do to him, you don’t want to know. The important thing is that you’re free to leave the hospital and sleep this whole mess off like a bad hangover.

Let’s just hope your friends made it out okay…

[3ezentrum3-blog]

General Health Problems - Blind Faith and Health Misconceptions

The present comprehension of wellbeing rotates around the "reality" that the human body is conceived with issues and lacks. It is a direct result of these issues that individuals become ill as they develop. It is additionally by and large acknowledged this is an issue that will keep on affecting individuals for whatever remains of their lives.

Lets say you go to the Doctor when you are wiped out and he discloses to you your ailment or disease is skimming near and you got it. He additionally reveals to you that it is typical to become ill on the grounds that your safe framework will in the long run slaughter the pathogen attacking your body and will make end up safe to it later on.

Well that sounds like an "And They Lived Happily Ever After" completion yet think about this. Pathogens which are microscopic organisms' that reason affliction and illness develop on numerous occasions and each time they advance like the normal chilly, individuals need to confront an updated rendition of a similar cool.

It doesn't bode well that it is "normal to become ill" in light of the fact that if the issue you confront keeps on advancing regardless you become ill what's the purpose of proceeding with this interminable cycle? Your insusceptible framework will get more grounded yet you will in any case become ill a seemingly endless amount of time by another advanced ailment.

Give me a chance to take you back to the hypothesis that individuals are conceived with issues and lacks. It is on the grounds that we need something in our life form that we are weaker and more powerless to maladies. In any case, how is it conceivable that individuals are conceived with this issue?

I trust this is on account of this day in age we attempt and substitute our inadequacies with drugs and handled sustenances that we accept are sound and will take care of our issues. Since we are installed with hypothesis that our body is blemished and needs sedates, we trust this is ordinary. Be that as it may, this is a misguided judgment.

WHY?

Similar medications and nourishments we eat are in certainty the reason for our medical issues! Medications don't accurately substitute what our body CRAVES and prepared sustenances need healthful esteem and toxin our body since they are brimming with synthetic compounds and development hormones which are put into them to protect them longer keeping in mind the end goal to take care of the developing populace demand (The more drawn out merchandise last the less of them organizations need to make, and it is a result of this that they are infused with synthetics to safeguard their express that modify them and make them undesirable).

Lets not neglect the way that this way of life has been continuing for quite a long time since drugs attacked our lives which conveys me to call attention to that the past ages who started this way of life passed it on to the cutting edge which would hereditarily be unfortunate during childbirth because of their folks utilization of undesirable items previously them.

Maybe that is the place the hypothesis of individuals being conceived unfortunate started from.

Expending these items has moved toward becoming so "ordinary" that mass amounts of individuals aren't notwithstanding seeing how they are harming themselves. It is troublesome for us to recognize this reality since we simply don't see this around us. This is on account of our bodies have an uncanny capacity to mend and adjust to new changes. However, in the event that we keep on poisoning it with these items, at that point sooner of later the body will never again have the capacity to take it and will breakdown.

Most medications available don't work. Truth be told an administration ponder found that exclusive 30% of medications available today do really work. Shouldn't something be said about the other 70%?

Its over the top at what number of medications are being publicized today and how the storyteller of and promotion notices 10 diverse reactions unobtrusively. Have you at any point seen a medication advertisement? Have you seen the destructive number of reactions a medication has?

Medications say symptoms, for example, heart issues, elevated cholesterol, kidney disappointment, and significantly more. Next time you see a medication promotion listen deliberately to what they are stating. At the point when the storyteller clarifies how the medication functions you will in all probability hear something like:

Treats the causes

Treats the side effects

So it does only minds medical issue. What's more, it will at present keep on occurring in light of the fact that it isn't being managed accurately. Likewise read sedate marks and you will see "Incidentally decreases side effects". Look deliberately and you will see that they essentially don't do anything. Goodness and we should not overlook the frightful symptoms.

So what fundamentally happens? You take a medication trusting that it will take care of your issues and in the process you experience numerous more medical issues also the harm they cause your kidney when ingested. Individuals we are being persuaded that taking medications is a pattern and that everybody does it.

Also, once we feel the symptoms we expect its because of characteristic causes when in reality the medications are at fault. We additionally trust that medications are helpful for us went down by claims from Doctors who are paid to state that they work.

Did you know numerous decades back, Doctors were really paid to state Cigarette smoking was beneficial for you? Try not to think this pattern has kicked the bucket with cigarettes? Specialists are being paid a great deal of cash to state something works, and for what reason?

To SELL. Offering an item is essential for organizations like pharmaceuticals and the nature of the item is optional.

Do you recollect what number of individuals Vioxx executed? What's more, this was a medication that was permitted to offer by the FDA. At that point after it slaughtered a fourth of a million people it was at long last removed the market. Here is my inquiry.

Didn't the FDA, or the medication organizations know this would happen? Didn't tests affirm a hazard for heart assaults? OF COURSE THEY DID yet they sold it in any case to profit.

This still keeps on happening. Do you sincerely trust the medications publicized are really justified, despite all the trouble? Have you at any point seen a business for "Anxious leg disorder?". How crazy does that sound? Presently they are making up the most implausible conditions just to make a medication and offer it, and all to your detriment since by and by drugs have reactions.

I used to feel like a guinea pig when I would go to my specialist and ask him what my concern was. He would frequently give me complex answers and instruct me to take a medication. These medications never worked for me. Also the way that a portion of these medications I'd never at any point heard off which made think like I they were being tried.

The entire methodology of setting off to the specialist seemed like "alright well here is your concern! We don't know where it originates from. There is nothing you can do about it. There is nothing we need you to do about it so let us carry out our employments, profit off you while you endure. So take this medication and quiets down".

In the event that there is no clarification for a medical issue why there are sedates as of now being profited off ailments and conditions? Well its basic numerous medications are being tried and sold before they can pass the best possible systems of security and that is the reason again I say I feel like a guinea pig.

My companion's dad was as of late determined to have lung disease. He felt idealistic on the grounds that he had high trusts in the wellbeing framework in the United States. When he returned home from his visit with the Doctor he abruptly felt miserable. I asked my companion what the Doctor said and he revealed to me that the Doctor evaluated a rundown of systems his dad would need to experience.

With ever system the Doctor clarified what level of progress there was and before the finish of the whole session, my companion's dad had lost expectation. I inquired as to whether he doubted the Doctor about any backup ways to go (implying at comprehensive wellbeing) and the dad said yes yet the Doctor interfered with him inconsiderately and said there is no other way!

Isn't that simply great? You claim to pay special mind to the soundness of your patients, guarantee that there is no solution for tumor, choose to run them through a few investigations while profiting off them and afterward the patient will in the long amazing not very many instances of chemotherapy really work, also their excruciating reactions.

So what winds up happening? The "specialist" prescribes standard method for growth. This is obviously chemotherapy. With not very many instances of accomplishment around there winds up happening that the patient is put into a case (Meaning that he has no other say in the issue), is gradually dieing while he is being profited of, and after that when they in the long beyond words specialists express that it was inescapable.

Isn't that dismal? Its miserable however its actual and this is a pattern that is proceeding. What's more, in spite of the fact that I sound one-sided towards specialists, I am in certainty not. There are numerous great specialists out there who really need to encourage their patients. In any case, the issue is that a large portion of these specialists are educated to think the same and in addition proposing similar strategies.

The reason I compose this is to give individuals an alternate viewpoint. Some of the time its important to advance out of line and tell your Doctor "NO!". Now and again its important to seek after various streets, and by and by I prescribe the exceptional ones, for example, regular wellbeing.

Circumstances are different the impression of a specialist being great, useful, all knowing and kind that has been implanted into us from our initial years go from age to age has changed. There are numerous things happening now that totally turn that recognition around and in spite of the fact that it is occurring surrounding us, a large number of regardless us have dazzle confidence in specialists.

I composed an article "On the best way to be your Own Doctor", and in it I say how there is dependably a purpose behind your medical issue. There is no such thing as "it simply happens and there is nothing you can do about it". There is a reason and there is an answer. You can discover it. Furthermore, despite the fact that I am not a gigantic enthusiast of specialists it is once in a while important to see them to get their sentiment on the issue.

On the off chance that you are uncertain about a wellbeing condition you have or are stressed, it is constantly brilliant to see a specialist. Anyway it is vital to dodge a medication and additionally an off base proposal from the specialist. In the event that you feel he might endeavor to profit off you, quit seeing that specialist of get a second supposition. Think about all encompassing specialists yet in addition be careful about their recommendations.

The wellbeing business (in any event in the US) is a private business and in each busin

[frozen-heart101]

Prince of Arendelle

Elsa sat motionless on the roof of the old toothpick factory. She waited for her target to get in range. This guy was practically Yama's right hand man. Getting him ment getting a spy in place, and also a very long vacation for Elsa. And boy, did she need it. Things were insane nowadays. Anna needed more help studying, the cats needed tons of attention, flu season hit the org hard, so staff and field agents were low, and to top it all off, the weasel was closer than ever to proving that she was behind the assassinations and arresting her because her boyfriend, Tadashi Hamada, slipped up. Ain't that much coffee in the world could keep the poor assassin going on. Elsa needed a nap. Scratch that, she needed to go into hibernation for the summer. But to do that, she had to get this job done, and done right.

"C'mon, buddy. Just a few more steps left. . ." Elsa mumbled. She could practically feel her sheets and the soft pillows already. "Go on, move!" Elsa hissed under her breath.

POW! The man was dead as soon as he stepped in range. But Elsa couldn't celebrate just yet. The building she had nested on was over sixty-two years old, and had been abandoned for fifty-nine. So when her rifle went off, the shock of the kickback caused the roof to cave in. Elsa barely managed to grab a pipe to keep from falling. As she tried to find a way out, she heard. . . Voices? But the building had been abandoned for years!

"I'd better see what this is." Elsa mumbled to herself. She carefully swung her legs up and over the pipe and crawled along it to the next room. She nearly gasped when she saw two men standing over a little boy. The poor kid was spitting blood and badly bruised, looking like an abused little puppy. The men were hurling insults at him, kicking him and throwing him around. The boy was sobbing, pleading his captors to stop, begging to be let go.

"Shut up! You're nothing but a worthless little mistake! If your father wasn't our boss, you'd be long dead!" The bigger man yelled. He delivered a kick to the boy's ribs. Elsa cringed at the loud crack that followed. The boy screamed. "And don't think that prostitute that birthed you would care either if you hadn't killed her!"

"I-it w-wasn't m-my f-fault." The boy choked after a few minutes of coughing up more blood. The smaller of the two men grabbed the kid and held him at eye level.

"Oh yes it was, Mistake. You came a week early, and were too big for her body to handle. You. Killed. Her!" He growled, throwing the boy against the wall. "And now we'll get our revenge. You're to be our test subject in our most deadly experiment yet! If it works, you'll become a monster controlled by us to destroy the Org!" Elsa almost gasped. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I should kill these creeps here and now! But I don't want to deal with a kid. I don't want to kill the poor boy, either. I'll just watch for a little longer." Elsa thought. But just in case, she checked to make sure she had her pistol. The man went on talking.

"If it fails, well, I heard that the serum makes you practically immortal, but you'll always feel a searing pain all over. And it never, ever dissipates."

"N-no! Please don't d-do this!" The boy pleaded. "I've a-already g-got f-freaky p-powers f-from your last experiments. I'll do what you want! Just please no more experiments!"

"As if we'd listen to you! Go get the serum." The first man shouted, holding the boy by his neck. The second man started for the door. Elsa knew she couldn't let this happen.

"I hope Anna doesn't mind me adopting a kid!" 

Elsa leapt off the pipe and onto the second man, knocking him out. The first man whirled around. He dropped the kid and kicked him to the side. He lunged at Elsa, but she was faster. Her pistol was in her hand before the man could blink.

Bang! The man stopped to stare at the hole in his chest before falling to the ground, dead as a coffin nail. Elsa shot the other man in the head and placed her gun in his hand to make it look like a suicide. She turned her attention to the whimpering mass in the corner. She cautiously approached.

"Hey little guy. . . Don't worry, I'm here to rescue you." Elsa cooed. She knelt beside the poor kid. He looked her dead in the eye, searching for any sign of hostility. He flinched when she tried to touch his shoulder. "It's okay, buddy. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm not scary."

"Uh. . . I-i wouldn't s-say that." The boy looked from the dead men to Elsa.

"Okay, so I'm scary when I need to be. Look kid, you're safe with me. I swear as an assassin, I'll won't harm you." The boy relaxed slightly. He allowed Elsa to gently help him sit up. She checked him over, finding a broken leg, a few busted ribs, and a ton of bruises.

"What's an Assassin?" He asked quietly. Elsa rubbed the nape of her neck.

"I’ll explain it to you when we get home. You're still pretty shaken." Elsa said quickly. The boy looked confused.

"Home? What's that?" He asked. Elsa smiled.

"It means I'm taking you in. I could use a little kid like you around the house. You're going to be my apprentice."

"Oh." The boy sighed. "Apprentices don't get beat up if they make mistakes, do they?"

"I promise kid, no one's going to beat you up. What's your name?"

"They call me Mistake." The kid hung his head. Elsa frowned.

"Yeah, no. That's not your name." She noticed a little crown on his neck. "How about Prince? I think that fits you better than Mistake."

"What's a Prince?"

"These goons did nothing to educate you? Disgraceful." Elsa mumbled. She carefully lifted Prince off the ground. He panicked for a moment, squirming to get our of her arms. "Don't worry, Prince. You're okay buddy. Calm down. No one's going to hurt you anymore. Not on my watch. I'm just carrying you to the car. You can't walk with a broken leg."

"I'm sorry." Prince whimpered. He stopped fighting and forced himself to relax.

"Don't be. I get it, you're scared of people because of the abuse they put you through. This is probably the first time someone stood up for you, right?"

"It's the first time anyone ever cared." Prince sighed. "They would kidnap agents from the 'org' and, half the time, they'd put them in my cell. They think up elaborate escape plans after watching me get beat up and experimented on. They never tried to get me out, and when they did escape, I was blamed. You're the first person to actually care."

"Wow, that's awful! Don't worry buddy, my sister and I will give you a good home." Elsa declared. She found the exit after a few minutes of walking around and headed to her car. She looked at Prince, who was looking around at the parking lot as if he'd never been outside, which Elsa guessed he hadn't. "How old are you, little guy?"

"I don't know. Probably ten."

"Way too young to go through that abuse. Let's just get you to the hospital. They can fix your leg and ribs." She set the boy down in the backseat of the car and drove to the hospital. Prince started flipping out. He was terrified of doctors, having grown up as a Guinea pig for whatever twisted experiments those men did. Elsa managed to calm him by assuring that she would be with him at all times. She took him inside.

"What can I do for you, miss?" The receptionist asked.

"It's the kid. He's got a few busted ribs and a broken leg. He was abused, so he's scared to let people touch him. I'm the only person he's okay with so far. I need to stay with him."

"What's your relation to the patient?"

"Uh. . . I literally just rescued him from a couple guys who were torturing him. I'm not blood related, but you need to let me stay with him!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you stay with him unless you're a family member."

"The only family he has is his dad, and he doesn't want anything to do with him!" Elsa felt Prince cringe in her arms. She whispered a quick apology before continuing. "Can't you just say I'm his adoptive mother?"

"Alright, I guess that's okay. What's his name?"

"Prince."

"Age?"

"Ten."

"Date of. . . Never mind. You probably don't know that."

"December twenty-first, 2008." Prince said. Elsa smiled at him.

"Thanks buddy." She said. Once Prince was properly bandaged and cared for, Elsa took him to her and Anna's apartment. Anna wasn't home yet, so it was pretty quiet.

"Is this where you live?" Prince asked. Elsa nodded. She carried him to her room and set him down on her bed.

"You rest here. I'm going to get some snacks ready, you must be hungry. I'll just be in the next room. Yell if you need me." Elsa said. She tucked him in and left the room. A few minutes later, she returned to find the poor boy asleep. He looked scared, like he was having a nightmare. Tears streamed down his cheeks like little rivers of fear. Elsa didn't really know what to do, so she gently rubbed his shoulder. "It's okay buddy. It's only a dream. You're fine. I'm here for you. . ."

Elsa! I'm home!" Anna called from the living room. Elsa did nothing, instead continuing to console her sleeping adoptive son. Anna entered Elsa's room, noticing Prince immediately. "Okay sis, I'm fine with taking in stray cats. But where did you find a child!? Wait, did you have to kill his parents!? Tell me you didn't!"

"Anna, I rescued Prince from a couple goons who were abusing him. He's only ten. He needs me, I'm the only person he is comfortable with. He's staying with us, and I'm not changing my mind." Elsa declared. Anna could tell her sister was resolute.

"At least tell me where he came from." Elsa granted her sister's request and told her how she came about taking Prince in. Anna excepted him after that.

"Hmm, what's going on?" Prince mumbled, still half asleep.

"It's okay Prince. It's just my sister, Anna. She's nice, and she'd love to meet you." Elsa cooed. Prince looked at the other young woman. She looked nice enough. She stuck out her hand for a handshake. He flinched back, hiding under the covers.

"Come on out buddy. I'm not going to hurt you." Anna said. Prince peeked out a little, enough for Elsa to gently pull him into her lap and hold him. He didn't squirm, which was a good sign to Elsa. Either he was getting more comfortable around her, or he didn't want to deal with the pain in his chest from the broken ribs or his broken leg. He did flinch when Anna caressed his cheek, but only once.

"Good buddy, you're learning. You can say goodbye to the years of abuse. You're safe with me and Anna." Elsa said, hugging him softly, trying her best not to disrupt his ribcage.

"Poor thing. What monster would ever want to hurt this little angel? He's so cute!" Anna squealed. Prince didn't know how to respond. He'd never been shown any affection before. Now he had two people promising they wouldn't harm a cell on his body. The red-head had called him "cute", a term of endearment he hoped. (He had no idea what "cute" meant.) They were actually treating him like he was wanted, like he was loved. Feeling too awkward to say anything, and still questioning whether the girls meant it or not, he thought about a way to change the topic of conversation.

"What do I call you?" He asked Elsa.

"Why are you just asking now?" Anna asked.

"It just occurred to me. I don't know." He shrugged.

"It's okay kid. My name is Elsa Arendelle. You can use that or whatever you see fit."

"Okay." They sat quietly for a bit before Elsa spoke up.

"Hey, you said you had freaky powers from past experiments. If you don't mind, what are they?" Prince sighed.

"Well, I'm faster than the speed of light, for one. That's why they broke my leg. I have extensive medical and scientific knowledge, most of which is fairly useless unless you're studying to be a nurse or doctor or engineer. I also have impenetrable skin. The only way I lose blood is if I'm spitting it." He explained. Elsa lit up at his descriptions.

"This is perfect! Just what we needed." She exclaimed.

"By the way, you never told me what an Assassin was." Prince pointed out.

"An assassin? Well, to put it simply, I take out the bad guys. Like I did to those a-holes who were torturing you." Elsa said nervously.

"So, your a murderer." Prince stated with an accusing glare.

"Well. . . Yeah, but for the good guys!"

"Hmm. When does training start?"

"Wait, really?" Prince nodded. "As soon as you heal!"

"Oh great. Now there's two of you." Anna grumbled. 

"He could help you study."

"Fine." The three of them knew that this was going to be the best decision of their lives.

[braindamageforbeginners]

Just Eat Your Stupid Vegetables

Day 59

I’d like to begin today’s festivities with a recounting of recent events in my on-going attempt to get more Temodar. For any new readers, this is the chemo drug that all GBM patients are required to take for a year (possibly more)(as I’ve mentioned, the only thing worse than hearing, “We’re extending your treatment” is, “We’re discontinuing your treatment because it’s not working”), and I have been working feverishly to get more of it (and been thwarted by various forms, claims, claims-adjusters, and, most importantly, CVS)(new rule; just as I go out of my way to protect the anonymity of any of my care providers who do me a good turn, I’ll point out the folks who are likely to kill you if you have a serious illness)(and, based on current events, it seems likely that if you wandered into a CVS with an open, dripping wound, they’d call their supervisor and request the proper form before offering you a band-aid). After the most-recent mishap, in which CVS claimed that there was an insurance issue; I found the proper insurance form, forwarded it to the Warlocks’ administrative team, and heard back from one of the nurses that they’d filled it out and sent it on. I got a call the other day from a creepy, automated voice saying that my insurance company had just approved the release of my drugs. There are small children on Christmas who are less joyous than I was at the thought of putting more toxic substances - in higher doses - in my body. In my enthusiasm, I called CVS to see about delivery. You can imagine my confusion when they told me that the hang-up was because there were two prescriptions (Temodar only comes in a few different dosages, so doctors will prescribe you one or two dosages, and give you instructions on how to mix-n-match them to get your exact dosage)(again, you can’t cut these things in half, because they’re basically gel capsules containing mustard gas)(that’s a slight exaggeration, but not by much). After much tearing of hair and rending of teeth, CVS advised me to get in touch with my insurance company about the hold-up. So I called the insurance folks, whilst thinking of being on a beach in the Caribbean. The insurance folks were helpful, and figured out that the obscure authorization form that the Warlocks filled out could be applied to one Temodar prescription (again, I need two); and, after a call to the in-house insurance pharmacist, okayed the second prescription. No screaming or cajoling required. I gave myself an hour off (I had more coffee, when, in retrospect, I should’ve had a martini or two), then called CVS. They eventually agreed to ship me the drugs, after a $130 payment was made. It’s depressing to think that we could put a dollar value on a human life. It’s suicidally-depressing to realize that, apparently, that value at the moment is $130 and 16-ish hours of paperwork and phone calls (we won’t discuss my insurance premiums, which are astronomical). And it’s Bambi’s-mom-died sad to think how many cancer patients with far better prognoses than mine died for far less money. Anyway, I did finally convince CVS to take my filthy, peasant money in exchange for their goods (one feels that Adam Smith might rethink his thesis if he saw the 21st century), and made a mental note to throw a brick through the front window of the next CVS I see (I’m getting a chunk of those 15 hours and $130 back one way or another - CVS can either have my time or my money, but it seems greedy to claim so much of both)(especially when, as Research Coordinator pointed out, Temodar is such a common chemotherapy drug nowadays that it’s quite common for large pharmacies to have a bag or two stashed away). And the chemo drugs arrived this morning, so that’s a form of victory. But that’s not what I want to talk about at the moment.

I would like to share with all of you an interesting revelation I had whilst on vacation from the abyss (I know my father would probably hate that metaphor; sorry, Dad, but it’s a good one, and I’m sticking to it)(I’m about to heap some well-earned praise on him, so I figure it’ll even out). You surface dwellers are aware that there are food sources that you don’t have club to death or process, right? That’s not just a giant squid thing that’s unique to me, is it?

I have ask that because I only this morning starting putting some of the pieces of the puzzle together. Now, the biggest complaint about Temodar is that it causes motility issues (that’s the polite and scientifically-preferred term, I believe), and I suspect that’s been a complaint about the Captain America serum, because the Warlocks recently asked a few times about that issue, or, more specifically, that I didn’t ever seem to have that issue (not in any obvious or nagging way, just a part of me noted, “It seems odd that they’re double-checking that particular question.”). And I only put that together because I recently had to put in a special request to Mother Dearest for various ready-to-eat plant-based items. And only then did it start to occur to me that I’ve been on an ultra-high fiber, ultra-high protein diet.

Although I might jab my father occasionally, it should be noted that he has done a lot in the day-to-day business of keeping me alive. And, when you’re back at home after life knocks you on your ass, you eat what’s in the fridge at home. And my father is almost-obsessive about fruits, vegetables, and fiber. He even eats that horrible bran cereal that is almost-indistinguishable from those food pellets you feed to pet rodents (I really, really hope that’s not the cure for cancer, because I might choose death before that).

I bring this up because it contrasts a bit from me, in the initial part of my treatment. I’d been a pescovegetarian for eleven years - count ‘em, folks - prior to the diagnosis. Heart disease runs in the family, and I thought I might avoid that disease (once you start to think about all the weird, crazy paradoxes and hypocrisies in your life, you go a little mad). After I was told I had a terrible disease, one of my initial thoughts was, “Clearly, vegetarianism is bullshit.” 

Reader, you may be familiar with the word “relapse” as it pertains to addiction. Well, for those first few weeks, that was pretty much me; the crazed, blood-soaked carnivore who refused to eat anything unless it did move. Dad did point out that it wouldn’t do to survive brain cancer to die of heart disease or malnutrition; and that I wasn’t going to win the “Most Eligible Bachelor” award if I continued eating live chickens where the general public could see me. My memory of this conversation suggests that I responded in a less-than-graceful manner (a note to the family and friends of cancer patients; even the nicest, kindest person on the world won’t be very nice or kind for the first month or two after the diagnosis). Instead of smothering me in my sleep (again, that could make him a candidate for canonization), Dad just kind of kept chipping away and, either due to me seeing light, or the exhaustion wearing down my stubbornness, I eventually started eating more plant-based matter (and, eventually, that turned into a lot of plant-based matter, once I learned that vegetables and fruits are actually pretty tasty)(of course, this was all going on while I was chugging Gatorade, and, stacked up next to that, cough syrup doesn’t taste too bad). And, because I’m into weight training and I’ve been told by my neurofeedback guy that protein is good for neurological injury, I increased my protein intake (mostly from those awful protein shakes, which are only slightly better than Gatorade). And I went to the gym, every day (well, at least 5 days out of the week - that Captain America serum is tough on the body). The point is, I have been living - completely accidentally, as it turns out - an extremely healthy lifestyle, as of late. The fact that this was occurring to me as I was literally being torn apart on a molecular level, poisoned, and used as a guinea pig in a mad science experiment (this is a dramatically reductive but not-inaccurate description of cancer treatment) is one of those little ironies that drives me as a writer.

To get to the larger point, at every stage in the process, everyone - from the radiation techs to the Warlocks - has commented on how exceptionally well I’ve tolerated the treatment. I usually shot them a dirty look, because I felt like hell - and, now that I’ve recovered a little, I now realize that I was utterly physically miserable the whole time (it’s just like when I started taking melatonin and sleeping through the night that I realized how many years I must have spent half-asleep and utterly exhausted). Still, in all fairness, the Warlocks and everyone were, in retrospect, right - I was miserable, but I was never completely bed-ridden, apart from two or three mornings here and there. Which makes me wonder, if a large part of that wasn’t due to lifestyle choices on my part; which I’ve been able to contrast with life outside of the abyss. And you people seem almost fearful of anything that isn’t carved from an animal and deep-fried (to be fair, I love bacon-wrapped, beer-battered veal as much as the next guy - probably moreso, since I’m still making up for lost time).

Now, this is not to say that fruits, vegetables, and stair-steppers (or bench-presses, in my case) are going to cure me. If I survive this thing - and that’s still a big “if” (I realize that seems pessimistic, but I’ve realized that, just as positive outlook is important, it does not do to ignore the dark probabilities of life), it’ll be because my surgeon went orienteering in my skull; Radiation Oncologist nuked me; and the Warlocks dosed me with massive quantities of strange and dangerous substances, and then I begged all of them to do it again and again. But, at the same time, maybe there’s something to be said for healthy lifestyle as a complementary treatment to being scalped, microwaved, and poisoned.

Again, this is absolutely not an endorsement of “alternative” medicine (my go-to quote on that matter is from Tim Minchin, who wrote, “Do you know what they call alternative medicine that’s been proven to work? Medicine.”). There is no secret cure “they” don’t want you to know (I love the medical industry, but it simply isn’t competent enough to suppress that type of immediately-profitable information), and if there is, “they” don’t want you to know about it because it’s unsafe or unreliable (or, in my case, being tested for safety)(Mother Dearest once summarized it best when she said, “They could cure cancer, HIV, and Ebola tomorrow if they didn’t have to worry about the patient surviving.”). But, at the same time, there might be a lot to be said for complementary medicine, which, apparently, includes spending time in the gym and large quantities of tasteless fiber. And even then, it’s not like it’s some major constriction on your day-to-day existence (I’m sure Laura, Dan, and Julie are out there reading this and saying, “He wasn’t on any sort of diet I noticed” - and I wasn’t, either, until I got out, and realized Dad had quietly been slipping more plant life into my diet than I was comfortable with). Again, I wouldn’t even have noticed it all until I remembered the Warlocks’ specific questioning about my lack of GI chemo side-effects, and then realizing that I’d been eating far more than the average amount of veggies (if you’re downing gallons of hateful Gatorade and taking dreaded Temodar on a nightly basis, as well as being microwaved every day, extra helpings of brussel sprouts and an extra half-hour in the gym on a daily basis tend to go unnoticed). So, maybe, perhaps, if you plan on being seriously ill, a healthy lifestyle change at the same time might help you out. Maybe,. Possibly. Again, I’m just one person, statistically, I can’t prove or disprove anything.

[anarchobumblebee-blog]

Happy Birthday Papa

When I was young, I didn’t ever have a consistent and kind friend. Other kids thought I was weird. Which, as I grew older translated into me bein trans and queer and autistic. Even my family treated me like I was nothing. They thought, they think, I am weird. Which, I now know is because I’m trans and queer and autistic. And because they’re a bunch of assholes.

When I was young, I didn’t ever have a consistent and kind friend. I never had anyone on my side. Except for my grandfather. Alexander Perry. The kindest person I’ve ever known.

His kindness was evident in every little thing he did. Like when I was 7 and was an idiot and put out a lemonade stand even though our closest neighbor was two miles away; he came out every half hour to pay triple to a cup of over sugared lemon juice. He downed so much of the rubbish just to cheer me up. Or when I got stuck in a tree after a fight with a friend shortly after the lemonade stand and thought only to call his name. He came running even though the house was a fair distance away. I still don’t know how he heard me. Or when he fished my bike out of the pond even though I didn’t tell him it was there. He didn’t say a word about it. He knew I didn’t tell anyone because I was so afraid of getting in troubke because I was so used to getting hurt for things like that. He knew how scared my siblings and I were of my mom. So he tried relentlessly and with all his might, even when he started dying, to rescue my siblings and I from that house because he knew we were happiest with him and Grammy. He went out of his way to never raise his voice and to always remind us of how loved we are. He was honest with us too. I remember him telling me how my step dad was mean and my bio dad (who I hadn’t seen much of yet anyways) wasn’t much better. I remember him encouraging us to be strong, loving, supportive, wise; and, above all else, he taught us to be kind.

My Papa was also the bravest man I’ve ever met. When he was diagnosed with late state cancer it was a type that’s cured without problem 98% of the time. He landed in the other 2%. Because of that statistic the doctors didn’t have much experience treating terminal patients with that illness. So, Papa offered to be their guinea pig. He told my grandma that “even if I can’t be saved I know that my experience and what those doctors do to try to save me could save others. And I’d gladly give my last few months to save someone else many more.” He never ever, even in his last months, passed up an opportunity to help someone else. He sure as hell never passed up an opportunity to help my siblings and I.

My head is swirling with memories today. And most days. Even though it’s now been 10 years it still feels so recent. Losing someone so close to you never stops hurting. He was more of a father than mine will ever be.

Papa, I remember the bizarre and outlandish and obviously fabricated with a bit of truth stories you used to tell when I was hurting. About your friends and you growing up in Hawaii. I remember the story about the haunted house and Georgie and the orange juice your dumbass packed for a hike instead of water. I remember the stories about the mountains and I remember the warm rain and I remember when you started to tell me of how horrible your mom was and how grateful you were for your auntie. And how grateful I was and am for you. And I’m so sorry that I told you I knew you were making things up. I think that hurt you. Even on your last night you helped me scare away the nightmare and even on your last night you were the sweetest to Grammy and to Charlie. I never got to go to your funeral because mom wouldn’t let me and now I can’t even see the tapes because Charlie and I don’t talk. I’m so so sorry. I wore your hat every day until Alex Seto stomped on it in the eighth grade. And even then it stayed in my backpack until it moved to my college dorm. I still have that teddy bear you got for me weeks before Christmas since you knew you wouldn’t make it. I named him after you. I’m sorry that I cutoff the bow and I’m sorry that I couldn’t stand Christmas.

I just hope that I’ve turned out kind. And I promise I’ll never stop working t be kinder. You showed me kindness when not another person never did. And that’s who you were. You were the kindest person I’ve ever known. And you are so very missed and so very loved.

You loved your family. You loved your grandkids. You showed my siblings more love than they’ve ever gotten from anyone else besides each other. You showed Charlie how I love himself and you showed Taylor how to keep showing resilience no matter what. And Abbi, she’s too young to really remember. But I’ve told her so much. She loves you. We all love and miss you.

I’ll have a rice candy today for you. Hope you don’t mind that I lift those now.

I love you, Papa! Happy 72nd